Wind and sun delight the eye with cloudscapes.
And slowly the land greens. Latest up here. We have celandines and a few violets even.
Some here know that we have been trying for many months to get someone to come and cut wood for us. There are fallen trees here in abundance and a wilderness of dead shrubs choke the land.
Always to no avail.
Then I put an appeal on boards ie donegal. For a man with a chainsaw.. I titled it "Need a man." to attract attention, and watched the viewing numbers rise rapidly into three figures... and not one reply.
Our wise Mother Abbess suggested a second message. "Well, it seems there is not one man in Ireland who can cut wood ..."
Of course the replies flooded in.. lol
But also that there was already something being organised.
So a few days ago, the great woodcutting party happened up here.
Five men; all of whom had done a day's work already; giving time and skill to help another.
I had previously hated the sound of chainsaws, but it was music that evening.
A whole groups of conifers had fallen together; and then I saw that some of the branches had turned to grow upwards, looking like new young trees.
So it needed careful cutting to preserve them.
The first man to arrive was a professional tree cutter; a young man with such skill it was a joy to watch him. The chainsaw became an extension if his arm, as a sewing or beading needle does with us.
Like the sword in those sci-fi cartoons, if they have them any more.
Then the others; two more chain saws and two more men to carry and stack.
The central area saw light for the first time for many years. Old hawthorn and blackthorn, dead and withered.
And the beauty of "sallies" ( salix; willows) one of which had a corkscrew shaped trunk through having to fight to reach the light, now free to grow.
Until the light faded, and the saws were silent and the men drank tea and ate of the food we had prepared. Simple, strong dishes.. potato salad, sliced sausage, brown bread, cheese.
And a wondrous stack of wood against whatever next winter throws at us here. It makes me smile to think of it.. Under thick black plastic.
And much more to carry in and stack.... and many branches to break up for kindling.
There was not time to clear up and we can do that work anyway. Little by little in the clear sweet air.
And as that is done, the shape of the new garden emerges. A goodly space, circled and sheltered by native Irish trees in their beauty and grace.
Were we ones to spend money on such things? But we are not so it will grow as we find spare plants and even chairs etc. A true prayer garden with nothing taken from our real work . .....
Cuttings and plants rescued from old abandoned gardens; already spearmint to plant free.
Still a little more to be felled, but that is all... Just the clearing now, and the sweet planning.
And lo! There has been a garden there at one time, an d there are straggly currant bushes, that have struggled for light. So we wait now to see what they will yield with the few flower buds there are there now.
A rich (!)harvest of old bottles and other rubbish of course.... Always thus here...
But the evening of giving a wonder. None of the men are "religious" ... yet their giving is more of Christ than much that we have experienced, and so much that is truly of that overused word "community"
And this is what we find more and more, to gladden and to perplex in these strange times.
And so good to put real names and faces to the "handles" used on boards!
Each has a wee angel of course, and every time I see the wood, they are held in prayer.
Oh I had asked the organising man to be careful to advise that we are Nuns lest anyone get a shock as has happened before.. The first man apparently got lost and asked an old man down the mountain if there were any Nuns nearby.. "Oh yes, there is a Nun up there...."
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The pony is still incarcerated, and we are in the dog house because of making waves.
Well, when it takes A YEAR for the dept of ag to reply to a welfare query.. tempers get frayed. And when we hear buck passing eg a horse is not livestock and the goat is clearly a feral..
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In India, wee tiny twins found; beautifully dressed. As if the mother could hardly bear to abandon them.. and maybe knew the Sisters would find them. Please God that that gave some ease and comfort to her.
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So we work on now as the year ripens into summer. Peas and beans are looking good and cabbages and all are starting to grow.
Blessings and peace this evening,,
