Rain, Snow and Daffodils

   

March days have arrived with a little bit of capriciousness. With rain and snow flurries and cloud and wind and sun. And more wind. Chancing on little moments of warmth in those patches of sun. More and more yellow being painted into each day. Twice I was unable to resist bunches of sunshine (otherwise known as daffodils) from the local grocery shop for only a few euro. Little surprises of dabs of paint (crocuses and snowdrops and blossom) under trees and on trees. And best of all, birdsong concerts accompanying each evening now.

Take a seat

Take a seat. Or pull up a chair.
Just show up. Every morning. Or every evening. Or in the afternoon.
Do you have a chair to sit? To be. A seat for a few moments of meditation, a few minutes of reflection. Or reverie. A seat to watch the sunrise or sunset.

February has blown in with the North wind. I heard a weather forecaster describe the north wind as a "clean" wind. Clean and fresh and cold she has ushered February in.

Remember the birds

Hello first day of December. Mild and misty you are this first morning. Milder on the western seaboard, the weatherman says on the radio, and rain on the way for the afternoon, spreading from the west. The afternoon will be for painting so.

My 94 year old Grand-uncle farmer sits by his window, also in the west of Ireland, observing the weather and the birds - he cannot walk out and about as much these days - but he always feeds the birds and he says they come back and sing for him. They are good company those little friends.  The painting above is inspired by him (available as an A4 print in my little shop). Don't forget to feed the birds this winter - it will be like a song investment!

The year's at the Spring

The first day of Spring, though nobody has told the weather. Wintry colours and sounds all around. Splashing through puddles of Burnt Umber and Paynes Grey. Wild wind painting crimson and red onto cheeks, each face a different shade. The wind also catching and carrying voices here and there to who knows where. Bell tinkling over coffee shop door. Cup of coffee waiting to warm up cold fingers again while raindrops and wind continue their chorus on the window.

At my desk, different colours to those outdoors, wishes for Spring: pinks, reds, lilacs, and drops of Spring shower blues.

Hints and hopes of Spring, goodbye to January, hello to February :)

When bad weather is good weather

Some snippets from conversations I have heard lately:

Where is the Spring?
It's been a long Winter.
That's a skinny breeze.
Bbbrrrrr!
I normally have my windows and curtains washed before Easter, but this year the weather....
There's no growth. The field is too wet to get the tractor into it.
This weather would put years on you!

Still though, this spell of Wintry weather is very good weather for painting. Snow and rain outside make for perfect sitting at my painting desk conditions. And this unseasonal weather is also very apt for reading Endurance,  true story of survival.  28 men (among them Irishman Tom Crean) drifting, after their boat was crushed by ice,  for over a year on the unknown, ice-packed Antarctic seas with no way of contacting the outside world. Very inspiring story of how they overcame seemingly unsurmountable obstacles.

It makes this present cold spell seem not too bad after all!

February, 28 skies come and gone (where do they go?)

February skies. Soft and blue and misty. Fringed with branches beginning to bud pinkly pale and unfurl leaves greenly. Then, for a few days, cold skies filled with flurries of snow.  Lengthening light in the evenings and soft sunsets at February's end.

There's great drying out

Blathín (Blaw-heen, little flower in Irish) hung the washing out on the line to dry the first day Spring was hinting with a blue sky and a mild breeze. Though the ground was still damp beneath her feet, she could hear a hundred voices of Springtime - birds twittering, branches rustling. Oak catkins swaying. Tiny little buds appearing.

Fluich agus scamallach. Wet and cloudy.

Listening to the aimsir (weather in Irish) on the radio. The words fluich agus scamallach mentioned more than a few times. And the same squelchy sounding words heard for the weather forecast for the coming weekend. Fluich agus scamallach walking - with a yellow umbrella - a wish for sunshine!

Rain painting, painting rain

Many walks this July with raincoat always on and hood always up. Feet getting sprinkled with raindrops walking through tall grasses. Ears attuned to sounds of millions of drops falling through leaves. For the eyes, a palette of greys, greens and hay coloured grasses. Soft tones because the sun is hiding.

A Green Wave

Nobody knows for certain when Spring begins. Around this time of year a "green wave" can be observed on successive satellite images moving north at a rate of about 100 miles a week.

For astronomers, Spring begins on 21st March, when the sun crosses the equator on its seasonal journey northwards.

Weather people base it on the weather. Meteorologists consider the 3 coldest months (December, January, February) to be winter. So for them Spring begins on March 1st.

Here, the evenings are light til 6.30, the air is filled with birdsong and I don't need my scarf - Spring!