
What is your favorite season of the year? Why?
Living in Ireland, I’ve learned not to get too attached to any one season. We might get all four in the space of a day: sunshine at breakfast, hail at lunch, and misty rain to tuck you in at night. It keeps you humble.
Truth be told, I like them all. Every season feels like it carries its own kind of spiritual lesson.
Spring reminds me to wake up, shake off the dust, and start again – no matter how long the winter was.
Summer feels like a call to be bold, let my skin feel the sun, and laugh too loudly at things that probably aren’t funny.
Autumn teaches me to let go, to shed the old, and trust that what’s meant for me will find its way back.
And Winter? Winter is a quiet teacher. It tells me to rest, reflect, and remember that even the bare trees aren’t dead – they’re just gathering strength.
So I don’t have a favorite, really. I just try to be present for whichever one turns up that day. Or hour.
Because in Ireland, you never quite know.

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