Here we are at the start of another year, relishing the thought of Spring and the return of the light as we rise towards Imbolc, the first of the seasonal celebrations in the the Celtic calendar.
Walking up the driveway with Jack this morning I noticed the tips of the Daffodils pushing through the soft, wet earth, though it will be another six or seven weeks before the show of yellow trumpets that will stand to attention on either side of the lane, a sure sign that Spring really is here, despite the occasional slide back into the frosty arms of Winter!
The love affair with white mornings, clear skies and bejewelled skeletons of last Summer’s foliage will be at an end. Mornings will be filled with birdsong and the young golden light of the sun as it rises ever steadily into the midday sky.
I have been very busy, hard at work with multiple chores across the woodland gardens and in the cottage. Part of this work involved cleaning out a small area of the shed opposite the veranda. To my surprise and delight I came across some of my artwork from some years back.
I love to work in watercolour…this was an old cat of mine named Irusan, after the Son of the King of the Cats from Celtic folklore.
Irusan went to stay with my eldest daughter for a while when I was moving to Ireland and she subsequently refused to give him back!
He lived for over seventeen years, passing into the Otherworld last Summer and returning to the ancestral home of Bealtaine Cottage.
Irusan was the most Otherworldly, magical and enchanting cat I have ever known! 
Clearing weeds and grass from the gravel has been an ongoing arduous task throughout the winter…it continues with good results! 
As does my growing fascination with naturally bonsai trees I rescue from roadside edges and woodland walks. It’s funny how new interests develop as restrictions are imposed, such as the lack of space for planting trees.
Since my family treated me to this beautiful pot, along with bare root trees and bulbs, I have been eyeing up other garden items at Ardcarne, my local garden centre…watch this space!
Viburnum tinus in flower…I have been informed by my eldest daughter Cara, who is something of a horticultural expert, that this makes a wonderful informal hedge. The remains of the Yule tree now supports it from falling out over the path.
It will be interesting to see the results of my heavy pruning in the Apple orchard…more to do!
Rhubarb pushing up in sheltered areas of the gardens.
A tangle of branches in part of the Apple Orchard, waiting to be pruned!
The tunnel still standing in this it’s sixteenth year! Same plastic!
Just look at that depth of leaf fall covering and fertilising the earth as it makes new soil!
Looking North East, towards Slieve Anierin.
The re-birthed Rowan tree through the great Ash overlooking the Fairy Wood.
Giant moss covered stones on the bank above the Fairy Wood.
I have purchased and planted seven Mahonia now in an effort to feed any early-waking bees…there are always a few!
My comPOOst
bins…the best food for plants that was never invented, but part of an incredible design by Mother Earth to enable us to feed Her plants, which, in turn give us life!
What to do with a three-legged chair?
Plonk it into the shrubbery where it won’t be sat upon and makes an interesting garden ornament!
Some of my baby trees…beloved babies!
New additions…I shall die in debt! My final ambition!
Jack sees much more than any of us ever will…
Goddess Blessings to you all XXX Colette and Jack
Moving from East and Central Europe, the Celts first arrived in Ireland about 500 BC.
The story of their arrival is intermingled with that of the coming of the Tuatha de Danaan, a mythical tribe of the Goddess Danu.
With the arrival of Christianity in the fifth century AD, written records then observe that the Celtic language was being spoken all over the island of Ireland.
However, the Celtic Ogham script was used in Ireland from the fourth century AD to the eighth century AD.
The script consisted of strokes or notches cut along the edge of a standing stone. 
Therefore, Ogham is seen as being the first written records of life in Ancient Ireland.
The written word was not, however, much required in Celtic life, as the hierarchy placed the storyteller high in importance within the tribe.
Within this is also placed the Druid, whose powers of recall, knowledge and tribal history, as well as poetry and lore, was central to the wellbeing and social standing of the tribe or clan.
The Celts built large earthen banks or stone walls around their farms to protect themselves and their animals.
These walls were called raths or duns.
Many place names in Ireland include the word rath or dun. 
Examples such as Rathcormac and Dunloe come to mind…try looking at a map of Ireland and see how many you can pick out!
Many of the fortified homes were enlarged to become know as Hillforts, offering more protection and domination of the landscape. Oftentimes these sites were used later to build castles and larger settlements.
The interior of the tunnel has been remodelled to create a sanctuary in which to enjoy being in the garden, even in very wet weather!
Sanctuaries are much needed in today’s world!
The plastic has been washed inside and out, ready for its fourteenth year!
The area around the tunnel, which includes compost heaps and potting corner, is now tidy.
Crocosmia is growing into fine clumps of lime green foliage.
Rhubarb doesn’t need forcing in the mild climate enjoyed here in the west of Ireland. 
Beds have been well mulched and Rhubarb banked up with enriched compost.
Work in the garden never stops, because Mother Earth never sleeps.
There are lots more seeds germinating in this way and I expect them to be stronger and hardier for their experience being outdoors, even through the recent snow!
In between the outdoors work, clothes are hand-washed and hung out to dry in the wind and sporadic sunshine.
Potatoes are arranged to chit, as pots are brought together and prepared for potato planting.
In a home without television, reading is the great entertainment…my book of the moment is all about the incredible life of Vita Sackville-West…a rollicking good read in the form of a wonderful biography by Victoria Glendinning.
And, as always, whenever the weather allows, the back door is thrown open to welcome in the day that’s in it!