Only On The Walters Post!

Back when I was a young feller, St. Patrick’s Day wasn’t about green beer or loud bars. It was about the land, the people, and a deep respect for the old ways. Farmers knew the importance of this time of year—winter was losing its grip, and the promise of spring was just around the corner. If you were lucky, you might have seen a few green shoots poking through the last bit of frost-covered soil, a reminder that the cycle of life carried on, just as it always had.

The Irish who settled here brought their traditions with them. They didn’t just wear green; they carried their heritage in their hands, in their work, and in the way they treated their neighbors. St. Patrick’s Day was a time to gather, tell stories, and remember where they came from. Maybe there was a fiddle playing, maybe a stew simmering over the fire, but it wasn’t about excess—it was about kinship.

The story of St. Patrick himself goes back to the 5th century, long before modern nonsense clouded the meaning of things. Taken as a slave, he found his way back, only to return to Ireland as a man with a mission. He wasn’t about luck or leprechauns; he was about resilience, faith, and the will to carve a new path. In a way, farmers have always understood that—there’s no luck in working the land, just hard work, patience, and a bit of hope.

So to the Irish folk, near and far, I raise my hat to you, and from one old feller who’s seen his share of seasons, may your fields be fertile, your hands be strong, and your hearts be light.

Until the next time: Keep Your Minds Open & Your Stories Alive! GW

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!