And so, we have St. Brigid’s Day. Lá ‘le Bríde. February 1st. We made it! We got battered and bruised by storms Abigail, Barney, Clodagh, Desmond, Eva, Frank, and Gertrude, but you know what? We’re still here and they’re gone. That’s what. And now we’ve Henry but that will pass too. Now we’ll see the days lengthening. Now we’ll start to feel the touch of Spring, like a girl who knows she’s going to be kissed for the first time, any moment, any moment, any moment… NOW. And summer not far behind. I can already hear the sweet shriek of the Swift in the high bright air. I see a glint in Jackdaws’ eyes as they coolly watch me cycling by. I was down in Crosshaven early yesterday (sitting outside a café, after a cycle – in January) and a young Rook was hopping around picking up crumbs. He has