We had a beautiful Spring morning in West Cork today. And, as it happened, I was fortunate to have most of the day to plan by myself — a luxury I seldom have! So it was a day for putting the camera in the car and heading out.
I strolled for a while among trees and shrubs in a farm that winds along the banks of the Bandon River. Most of my focus was on acres of bluebells that lay as carpet around my feet. They were replete with an air of Spring. They gently arched their heads in a subtle nod in the hope of a fruitful summer.
A while later as I turned and looked in the opposite direction I couldn’t help but notice a magnificent oak tree which is not budding this year. In its day it must have been a beautiful sight in its dominant position in the field where it stands. It is about 200 years old, I was later told. Last year it sprouted a few leaves. But this year there are none.
But still it stands surrounded by Springtime wild flowers and eager grass. It doesn’t appear traumatised by its fate. It is is just part of the cycle of nature. And a prayer came up within — for so am I.
