Trio in May

In May

The evening hums on wings designed to hover and travel in reverse
Breathe in the chill and sap rising
Wonder

The Song of a Green-belly Appetite

Two stand on the river flat and call; insistent, purposeful and loud enough that spring avalanches are only background rumble. Eight bodies with four bellies each and I'm the goatherd, happy only two are sheep.

Hooky Herd

The electric wire is strung, a request that you remain there while my attention and love are fastened over here.
Wait..., I love you more. So-long, rhubarb crown. We're away.
~ Dear, tonight, the milk carries the fragrance of willowherb.~

 

Happy in the Garden

The sweet intimacy of the last month has been superb. Our four Obie-goat kids have learned to cross streams, browse on tiny willow leaves and climb the steep forested hillsides with the adult herd and Mason and I. We have several bowers for resting where the little ones crawl into my lap, (though more than one can no longer fit.) We each get to nibble on the uncurling fiddlehead fern, twisted stalk, and purple shoots of fireweed. Happily, the mosquitoes aren't up and running--yet.

Before I invite the critters to join me, I groom each trail through the deep woods. While sorting broken branches and lightly raking the path I found the wild beauty of Violets, fragile and fleeting, peeking from beneath a shadowy bolder. The cold cloud cover today will keep them hidden and shy but perhaps tomorrow I can capture an image.

Tomorrow we begin milking again. I figure the day after The End of Days is a great time to start such a delight. Jackquie's fresh cheese next week!

Right now I'm inside loving the Spring Planting Show on A Prairie Home Companion, via WNYC FM. We're too far out the highway for our beloved KHNS FM. While the cast is taking time to put their northern gardens in and the repairs to a 1978 Winnebago satellite transmitter are completed, (Summer Love Tour 2011? Let's go!), Garrison Keillor is sharing a high spirited Spring compilation. So, though I'm cleaning the chicken coop this evening, right now I practicing my dance moves in heels.

What can I say? It's spring.

There's no help for me. Springtime makes me soft.  I yearn for intense warmth in steady abundance and this year, I'm in luck.

The older barn residents and I are taking part in the education of four new- comers, born a week ago. Mama Jackquie, a six year old Oberhasli grandmother, gave birth to two little does and two baby bucks. This week, there's innocence, beauty and a whole lot of laughs springing around on sixteen gangly legs.

Our garden variety sheep offered up a tremendous amount of beautiful fleece, as well. I'm busy carding, dying, and felting small things.

Like I said, there's no help.