Pair of low flying heavies, honking out of Canada, arced in a treetop maneuver and headed back towards the reservoir, missing the hordes of worms that have risen and entwined on the besieged grass also attempting to rise, the threesome making its way back from the field, not yet wet, dodging downpours in raw, cruel temps on a late in April morn.

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A day that started sunny and warmish has grayed and faded with clouds, dampish and chilling, Little John and his bucket head posed a serious riddle for Lancer and Boo, (Rev withheld his comments) curiosity brought them in to inspect the out of the ordinary and when it suddenly moved they turned and ran in fear as it might be eat horses, and back they came with sparked interest, cautiously approaching, lest it bite at them, questioning confusion and distinct bravery shown until fear took over and off they ran again under the darkening, blackening skies.

Happy horses, delighted daffodils revel with Rev much relieved, Lancer limping less too, the heavy overcast broke once to show forgotten blue above, brightening clouds streaming aloft from the North, loons flying between lakes calling out loudly for Spring overhead.

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Near the road, a visiting crow investigates manure and possibilities, we have casualties; Lancer has his front leg limp again – Rev is also limping with an injured tendon, muscle, knee, right, rear, requiring rest and what might be evidence of rooster activity on the torn edge of his ear – worst and saddest of all Little John is forced to wear the cone of silence to prevent licking the ointment from a stubborn cut on his leg – everyone else is well, Isaboo has lost her shoes, is nicely trimmed and barefoot on the growing lawn, chickens are preforming marvelous garden cleaning and providing eggs, Sterling is hunting and avoiding the gardeners, sunny brightness shining through leafless trees, high thin clouds making an attempt, time slipping by to the chorus of peepers back in business.

Cold overnight forming ice in outside buckets, wicked blustery winds chasing last years fallen leaves along with horses, dog and chickens across greening pasture, juncos gathered with ruffled feathers garnering seeds in little gray flocks, whipping chill bends reddening branch tips back and forth in a cheery wave, roaring voices drowning peeper’s refrain and the dance of life seems insistent today.

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Blissful day as spring is crowned with the first daffodil showing a sunny face to the morning, spotty frost evaporated fast touched with warmth as light replaced dawn, early eggs from roaming chickens, rooster guarding hens attacking human roosters who came for Easter dinner, Rev is limping a bit – wondering if he got mixed up with a hoof or pulled a muscle in frantic romping, heard some cannon fire in my heart on Friday, Happy Patriots Day! (conveniently celebrated today)

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Happy Easter, Bunny, Peeps, Egg, Ham, Spring or just a wicked nice day, whatever!

Open Studio at The Barn in Ashburnham, May 3 and 4th.

Sun in and out, warm then cool, earlier frost covered ground now lit happily with a glow, buds swelling red, grass turning green, time spent mostly on mowing while not relaxing or rolling off winter coats, Happy Weekend!

Early frost – no pumpkins- fending off the potential warmth of April with gray skies, crispy winds, ice topped buckets, hard ground  echoing a louder volume to hoofbeats and birdsong alike, minimum heating in the greenhouse due to lack of sunshine but the woodstove crackles and the large black dog in my lap more than makes up for that!

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A  white sunrise surprise, deeply dark gray clouds rushing off towards the South and revealing blue above, tulip and iris spearing up through icy snow cover that buried the jonquils attempt at joy, a pair of ravens grace us with flights through the field and magical calls unlike any others, sun rising strong to melt away cold yet winds bring it back with a chill, red of cardinal and distinct green in the grass offer cheers of stubborn spring while peepers silently await a reprieve.