I can see the flowers growning faster than the crias coming.
Six days over the year and Grace still holds on to her baby. She’s let pass a few days of good weather. Still warm though, and better a well cooked bun than an early unexpected arrival. It’s just that I get overexcited about the births way too soon.
Still sorting some fleeces, juggling with matings for future year’s harvest, and just enjoying the views, when the calm combs the fields and the orange blanket quiets the day to an end of peaceful serenity.
