hardly day old lamb ear-splittingly bleating for its
mother, not the grazing lady behind it,
gives up and bounds away to look elsewhere. Lambs
are funny creatures who love to play on rocks and
other vantage posts, probably an inbuilt reaction for
spotting danger from the days when sheep had to
survive without human intervention.
It is crutching time and for the uninitiated, that is
the time when it it is imperative to shave their dear
little (or not so little) backsides since the fresh green
grass tends to give the darlings the runs.
Here they are all gathered together in the little holding
paddock between our two houses. Emerging from my
bedchamber, this is what I see and hear in the morning
and bleating throughout a moonlit light.
Mostly we just have a flock of pets left this year
after having to sell the main bulk last summer when
we ran out of water.
The lady below was one of the irresistible lambs of
another season. We have had a succession of black sheep
starting with Eclipse, a Leicester long wool, Inkspot -
how can one sell a spotted lamb, and a few others
whose names escape me.
This year my granddaughter's eye is focused on this
dear little pair of black twins obviously destined for
a long and pampered existence on the farm.
One of our sheep again had triplets, unfortunately
she had moved into the flock before I could capture
the three new-borns with her.
While distracted by sheep and lambs and crutching
to prevent fly-strike as the weather warms, spring
crept almost unnoticed into my garden.
Enjoy your world where ever you are.
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My thanks to the MY WORLD team as ever for their efforts.
