Dew drying rapidly on the field, haphazard honking as geese choose a location, mostly sunny with increasing cloudiness, reporting black flies unwelcome beginning, buds swelled making ready to green, Daffodils delighting, Quince blossoms quickening, little shoots showing everywhere!

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Light frost early on, not to be mistaken for white, horse angel hair, shedded in patches here and there, lovely blue and clean morn bringing sunrise further down the field, climbing into high clouds toning out the hue, new grass preferred over hay, Boo let herself into the pasture after a breakfast of grain, annoying a certain dark brown horse stuck in his stall, now trotting out to tackle a treat of a day.

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Partly cloudy, partly sunny, not too warm, not too cold, hoofs banished from the garden for making horse angels, chickens soon will follow, winds calming, days lengthening, buildings stupidly torn down for no apparent reason, loons and an owl haunting darkness with forlorn cries and a solitary hoot, Rev has something to say about the world getting greener while piano key teeth graze under leafless trees.

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Peaceful early peepers lulling mild mornings break, greening grasses pushing upwards to please horse palettes, titmice dancing on the tips of tree branches, loons overhead and geese in the distance connecting waterways through flight, delighted crow with bread stolen from the hen pen, gardens patient with shoots ready and exposed by chicken landscapers, daffodil’s bright countenance urge forsythia forth, yellow highlighting the initial days of May.

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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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