It has been raining for two days and is due to rain for two more. Flood warnings are posted again. Before the bottom of Betty’s pasture turns back into a sinkhole, I wanted to fill the large water trough for the sheep and get tarps up on the old skid frames, to give me four working shelters.
Thus I spent yesterday morning working in the rain. Most of the time it was just a gentle, soaking mist, blown by the wind. I imagined I was in Scotland. (Double-click to enlarge.)
Someday I need to buy rain gear. Right now I just get wet.
As do the sheep. Hearing the rain drumming on the skylight, I had waked up in the middle of the night and worried about my lambs. However, though it is 45° F they seemed unfazed. I watched as several ewes and lambs shook themselves like dogs, flinging water out of their fleeces, and went on cropping grass. Others lay placidly chewing their cuds. None of them bothered with the shelters.
The rain and warmer temperatures have brought spring on like gangbusters. One can almost see the grass growing taller and hear the buds popping open on the trees. Two days ago the poplar leaves were just beginning to unfurl in a light haze of green; yesterday the birches and black cherries followed, and the maples are hot on their heels.
It’s thrilling but so many spring chores remain to be done. I see the briar thickets springing back to wicked thorny life and know I am late with my weedwhacking. I look at bare spots in the grass and know I am late with seed. I look at the trees down over my fences and know I am late having them cut down, repairing the fence lines, and putting my cattle out on grass. Everywhere I look: late, late, late.
Spring is here! Hurry, hurry!
I am struggling to finish my writing assignment. And in the meantime, it is raining.