In A Sea of Bluebells

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I don’t think spring blossoms used to dominate my feed as much before I moved to Ireland, but since coming here I feel very attuned to every new bud. Part it comes from living inside a park; our gatehouse is perched at the edge of a former manor house’s property. The gatehouse would be manned by a gatekeeper who would keep track of who entered the property and was permitted up to the manor house. These days the manor house is used for offices and the grounds of the house have been broken up into orchards and a public park. Our house still stands at the former gates, just at the edge of the park; making orchards, fields, and woodland walks literally on our doorstep. If those green spaces weren’t enough, my in-laws farm is just down the road with more areas for wandering. When you’re so close to nature it’s impossible to escape each seasonal shift; we watch firsthand as our woods spring to life with little green buds and a carpet of bluebells and the orchards blossom with their delicate pink petals. Then in summer we watch the green take over, a lush foliage spreading until branches become laden with apples and leaves shift to gold…but I’m getting ahead of myself. Right now we are bidding a fond farewell to spring, watching the wildflowers fade back into the ground until another year.
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In A Sea of Bluebells