Spring is a rather iffy season. It comes and goes. "St Brigid's Eve", writes Maire Mac Neill in The Festival of Lughnasa, was happy in the re awakening of nature and the recommencement of activity on the farm, but it had its anxieties as to the state of the family provender." It is, welcomed, or at least noted, in today's world in various ways: the snow drops are up and out; the kitchen gardener is happy - that the chives which faded away in late autumn are now thriving - the queen of the onion family. The acorns will maybe be sprouting in their pots of compost. The pinus pinea in the kitchen have already broken out of their hard nutshell, have lofted it and stand like the simple stick trees which young children draw. And those acorns - which have been set, pointed end down, on top of bottles filled with water, have thrown long roots and in two cases sent up little green shoots complete with leaves. Kitchen forestry.
All of which brings us to the admirable Paddy Madden of Scoil Treasa Naofa in Dublin's south inner city, who is the subject of an article in the current issue of The Irish Garden. Paddy, as you know, has instituted a school garden, worked by the pupils. Children, he is quoted as saying, are easily disillusioned by nature study workbooks, but they responded to the garden. A wonderful education. And, he thinks, this work has also extended and improved their use of language and expression. (The book Go Wild at School can be had from Scoil Treasa Naofa, Donore Avenue, Dublin 8. Price £4.95).
How may Paddy Maddens are there? Probably quite a few now. He is a prophet. One thing we can be certain about in Spring: the days do get longer. Enjoy them.
There is no time like Spring that passes by,
Now newly born, and now
Hastening to die.
Christina Rossetti, of course. A recurring theme with her.