Some people are complaining about the dark days of rain. Not me. I used to, but after the stomach-turning panic of last summer’s drought, when the pastures baked to a dusty brown and stopped growing, I feel as if I will never complain about rain again.
Last summer my sheep were bleating with hunger. Here are my ewe Geranium (foreground) and her two lambs, and my yearling ewe, Cranberry, grazing a week ago. They are too busy tearing the lush grass at Betty’s field to even look up, much less bleat at me. Their sides are beginning to round out.
Allen’s pond is full this morning, for the first time in a year and a half.
I am so grateful and relieved, at a deep, deep level. Thank you, God.