Sneem (Ireland) Had a Dream

The green landscape of central Ireland sped past our train window. Meadow grasses sneaked under stone walls and marched up hillsides to turn them emerald. Flowers of every shape and color danced with the breeze.

Snow still covered my yard in Idaho, and my son Matt and his family had escaped cold temperatures in Montreal. My daughter Mary, who lives in Utah, had flowers in her yard, “but nothing like this.”

Something troubled me. In walks with Mary and my daughter-in-law, Marta, we stopped often to sniff and admire vibrant flowers that spilled over tall fences, bordered sidewalks, bloomed in square plots, or hung from trees. But no sound came from the flower groves. My companions heard a steady plaint from me, “Where are the bees?”

Across the train aisle, my young grandchildren, Kora and Fausto, sat at a table and interviewed a friendly Irish couple who told them where to find leprechauns, and the best way to capture them. The woman, Jane, assured them leprechauns were “all over the place.”

When a lull in the conversation came, I asked Jane, “Where are the bees?”     

She shook her head. “They’re in great distress. All over the EU, bees are disappearing. It breaks my heart.”

During the next days, as we toured the Ring of Kerry and visited small villages, picnicked beside the ocean, or took walks near the house we’d rented, the situation repeated. Beautiful flowers grew everywhere. No bees sat on them.   

One day we happened onto the village of Sneem. The main street had a large pink building, next to a large yellow one, next to a large orange one. A beautiful rock bridge sat atop the river. A trail, The Way the Fairies Went, offered large rock sculptures and wound through woods.   

 I stood on the stone bridge and gazed down at the river. Matt called. “Hey! Come see this.” He led me to a plaque tacked to a stone building. The plaque said the government of Ireland had recognized Sneem for restoring its bees. And told how the town did it.

Sneem had enacted three reforms. Residents agreed to 1) not use chemicals on their vegetable or flower gardens, 2) plant a variety of flowers (bees need diversity in their diet), and 3) allow dandelions to thrive.

Dandelions appear early in spring as bees are emerging, and supply bees with nourishment, and a medicine unique to that plant.  

Instead of the green lawns we insist on in the U.S., in Sneem, cheerful yellow dandelions bloomed elbow-to-elbow in small, attractive yards. Different, and pretty.     

As we walked the path of The Way the Fairies Went, I heard the familiar buzz of bees I had missed. Small fairy houses, nicely furnished, had been tucked among the trees. When we peeked inside, no fairy residents were at home, but in one, a large bee had flown through the entrance and sat atop a wee kitchen table, taking a rest.  

Sneem had a dream. The town wanted to bring its bees back. It came up with a plan, and citizens got on board. I suppose some opposed it, because we humans resist change. But Sneem succeeded.

Now its paths, winding among stone sculptures and fairy houses, boasted the friendly hum of bees.   

I came home with a dream of my own. If Sneem could do it, so could small communities near me.   

Next time:  A Dream Bumps into Obstacles