And so we reach the climax of the glacial saga of the enduring golden daffodils on their reluctance to face a chilly approach to spring. Yet they must. Hope reigns after all.
Below, these curious critters look on, perhaps wondering why in the world I would be down on my knees before a flower, not knowing they have become witnesses to a camera’s capture as well as minor characters in the story.
Now, confident in my flowers, I am ready to charge forward with that other saga, my new book. I’m reaching back to ancient Ireland again where a young woman, an Irish goldsmith, takes a perilous journey in search of a forbidden secret held by the Saltlanders, a people who would one day be called the Celts.
One of the delights of living on the farm is to step out on your porch and say hello to friendly ones like these. They think they’re grazing. I see it more as mowing. In any case there’s a lot of soft munching. Sit quietly a moment and you hear the constant crunch, crunch. Some gentle breathing. The occasional lowing. Happy cows are such pleasant animals to have around. Calm. Alert. Curious.
Ed Cooley, who pastures these cows on my farm, moves them regularly from one cordoned off piece of pasture to the next. They’ve been in a distant field for a while, so we’ve missed seeing the babies. Now that the grass is turning dry he has moved them to the pasture around the house for fire control. So we will not only feel safer,we’ll have the pleasure of getting up close and personal with these cute critters for a time.