The bubbling chuckle of sand hill cranes put morning chores on pause until I finally spotted them flying north, low on the western horizon. Outside our kitchen window, one lovely crocus blossom cautiously maintains a low profile against our cold wind, while a single precocious daffodil stands at brave attention before it. Our first 50 lambs have recovered from the trauma of ear tagging, docking, vaccinating, and castrating; they tear at high tilt every morning when they are set free from the restrictive corral where they spend the night. The calves, also, fly around the pasture at top speed whenever the spirit moves them. Such joy we get from all of these spring messages. During the day, I made good progress on my painting, and thus far, I'm pleased with it, but I left the hardest part, a cottonwood tree in the foreground, for last, mostly because I am unsure how to proceed. Perhaps a brilliant idea will come to me tonight as I sleep.
4 Comments
Billie
4/5/2017 06:43:11 am
Morning,
Reply
4/5/2017 08:38:51 am
Billie
Reply
Billie
4/9/2017 06:47:43 am
I'm glad! How about a pic of her? 4/9/2017 01:35:19 pm
Billie - Thank you for your supportive words. In a testament to my tech ignorance, I confess the following: I don't know how to send a picture in my response to your comment on this website. I can post one to Facebook or within a blog post, but first I shall try to insert/copy & paste/upload (whatever the proper phrase) a photo from our morning. Yup. We awakened to snow, big wet floppy flakes. Wonderful moisture and much-needed, but hard on wee ones.
Reply
Leave a Reply. |
Margaret zieg ellerFor 25 years, Prairie Island has been my anchor, my core, my muse. The seasonal rhythms of land and livestock sustain me. The power of place inspires me. Archives
June 2023
Categories |