Earr an Earraigh

Tá earr an Earraigh inniu. Titeann bláthannaí shaicarandaigh go talamh. Ag imeall mo theach, féicim siad ag titeadh anois agus ansin.

Súim. Féachaim. Éistim.

Eitilíonn bláthannaí labhandair go tobann suas. Tagann siad suas gan rabhaidh. Tumann siad chomh má bheadh ag fáil báis. Muise, faigheann siadsan le hadhairt a fháil.

Caithfidh muid ár ndóchas a choinneáil gach uair. Smaoiním go mbeadh siad beo fós ar aghaide mo shúile, mar sin féin. Fanann muid i measc na beo idir an dá am.

Cruinním aon bláth tite nuabhainte. Iniúchaim sé go grinn é. Coimeádaim sé ina láimh agam.

Is cosúil é lena páipéar Seapanách go cuanna. Scrúdaím pistil aige istigh leis fionnadh is lú. Tá siad mothal mínchatach gruaige go domhain nach beag in íochtar.

Chríochnaíonn an bláth seo. Tosaím luach blátha sin a ardú amháin anois ar scor ar bith. Is cosúil é go beo breis agam níos faide an bás anabaí le déanái de.

Tá lá is faide inniu. Éiríonn an gréine is airde ar spéir gorm os ár gcionn. Titeann bláthannái anuas go lag ach go socair suaimhneach. Foghlaimíonn muid ag tuigeann faoi caitheamh ama. Béidh an lá a rugadh mé eile leis ceithre laethanta.

The End of Spring.

It's the end of Spring today. Jacaranda blossoms fall to earth. Around my house, I see them falling now and then.

I sit. I look. I listen.

The lavender blooms fly down unexpectedly. They come down without warning. They plunge as if death's finding them. Indeed, they themselves meet a natural death.

I think they may be still alive before my eyes, all the same. We must hold on to hope against hope. We remain among the living in the meantime.

I gather one freshly fallen blossom. I scrutinize it carefully. I hold it in my hand.

It resembles elegant Japanese paper. I examine its pistil inside with tiniest cilia. They're a fuzzy head of hair deep down almost at the bottom.

This blossom's finished. I start to appreciate the value of that bloom only now, however. It seems more real to me beyond its recent sudden death.

Today's the longest day. The sun rises highest in the blue sky above us. The blooms fall down slowly but quietly and peacefully. They teach us to understand the passing of time. It will be another birthday for me in four days.

Ghriangraf/ Photo: "Bláth shaicarandaigh ar mo ghloine gaoithe"/ "Jacaranda flower on my windscreen" le/by "Dalinean" 2007.