My sheep are shocked and horrified to be home. Where is our grass?
Here is my ram Cadbury grazing at Betty’s only a few days ago.
Here is a gaggle of the girls foraging sadly yesterday among the weeds on top of Allen’s peninsula.
It will be remembered that my friend Allen created this peninsula in 2009, building a boulder wall and burying tons of rocks behind it to get them out of our way. The whole peninsula is a thin skim of soil over solid granite five feet down.
Not much wants to grow on this granite layer cake — thickening and improving the soil is on my list of future projects — and it is still too rough to mow. Thus the overgrown weeds. However, after all the rain we’ve had recently, the entrances to my pastures are churned deep with mud. So for the time being, at least, I’m feeding my girls hay on the peninsula, to keep them clean and dry and to avoid foot rot.
Though they have plenty of hay, the sheep wander around disconsolately, obviously hoping to stumble upon something green and juicy, reminiscent of the bounteous salad bar they’ve enjoyed the last five months.
My ewe Lily even trotted over to baa in my face. I could read her lips. Surely you jest!
I’m just glad they’re safely home. It is 26° F this morning and our first snow is predicted for Wednesday.