Scairbhín Season

Mum gave me a new word to add to my vocabulary this morning… scaraveen (or “scairbhín”). The word has its roots in the Irish phrase “garbh shíon na gCuach” and translates to “rough weather of the cuckoo”. It refers to a period in Spring where the weather reverts back to more wintry conditions after a short spell of spring weather. According to Irish folklore, it’s supposed to be nature’s way of dolling out justice on the cuckoo for squatting in other birds’ nests.

I only learned about this word today, but I’m pretty fascinated by this phenomenon. It might seem superstitious to base the weather around folklore and animal behaviour, but that’s how people used to do it and besides, it really explains a lot. It was just over a week ago when the sun was shining and everybody was out basking in the glorious heat after yet another miserable and dreary winter. You’d almost be forgiven for thinking that it actually was summertime, but this week has been a reality check. It’s no longer bright and warm, it’s drab, cold, wet and windy. It’s an ardent reminder that summer isn’t here just yet, but it’ll come.

I suppose I’ll leave it at that. I keep being told to keep things short and sweet, but I’m always self-conscious of my writing being too short. At the same time, I don’t wanna be padding this out either. I still flirt with the idea of challenging myself to write daily “blournals” with an arbitrary word count, although I would likely experience burnout from trying to do that shit.

OK, that’s enough rambling for now. I’m heading out to the pub for a few pints now so I’ll see you about.

Take care.