A story about flood and climate anxiety by Tadhg Guihen, 27 yr, Arigna, Ireland
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Tadhg grew up living on a small farm with cattle and sheep. He enjoys being outdoors, spending time with animals and playing sports. Through his work, he has become more aware of the importance of climate change.
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0-7 yr: When I was little, the farm felt like a world of its own. I grew up on a small sheep farm in Arigna, Co. Roscommon, where the hills rolled gently and everything felt steady. I loved running around with the lambs, listening to the sound of the wind across the fields. Life felt simple, and the weather—well, it was just part of the world. It rained, the sun shone, and the sheep grazed. But I remember my parents talking quietly about how the rain came harder some years and how the land didn’t dry as fast. I didn’t think much of it at the time; it just seemed normal.
8-11 yr: By the time I was ten, things started to change. The summers were getting hotter and the winters colder. I remember our sheep struggling to find enough grass as the floods came faster and heavier, with winters leaving parts of the farm underwater for days. Grass couldn't grow as landslides followed the rain. My dad kept saying, "It never used to be like this." I didn’t fully understand what he meant, but I started feeling uneasy. We couldn’t do anything about it.
12-15 yr: At around 14, the climate anxiety really started to set in. We learned about climate change in school, and suddenly all the changes on the farm made sense. The heavy rains, the long dry spells—it wasn’t just bad luck, it was happening everywhere. I’d watch the sheep huddle together when the weather was bad—wet and cold—and I couldn’t help but feel this tightness in my chest, wondering if our way of life was disappearing. I started worrying about things I never used to think of.
16-19 yr: By the time I was 18, I could see how much climate change was affecting the farm and our area as a whole. The lambing seasons became more unpredictable, and we lost more sheep than before due to harsh winters and erratic weather. I remember watching my dad staring out at the soaked fields after yet another flood, a deflated look in his eyes. That’s when it hit me how serious this was. I started thinking about the future—not just for me, but for the farm. Would it still be here in 10 or 20 years?
20-23 yr: At 21, I couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness. I tried learning more about sustainable farming practices and how to manage the land better, but it always felt like we were fighting an uphill battle. The heavy rains never seemed to go away. I began having moments where I’d stop and look at the sheep and the land, wondering if it was all slipping through our fingers. The anxiety affected me more, and sleepless nights followed, worrying about the future of farming in our area.24-27 yr: Now, at 27, I’ve come to terms with it in a way. The anxiety is always there, like a constant hum in the back of my mind. The weather is still unpredictable, and the farm still struggles. Some years are better, others worse. But my community and I have learned to keep going, even with the fear. The farm has been in my family for generations, and it’s hard to imagine walking away. But sometimes, I wonder if we’re fighting a battle we can’t win. I love this place, but sometimes I question if love is enough to save it. Climate change is here, and it’s affecting everything—our sheep, our land, and our future.