Evening Pastoral

The ewes are at pasture now, but lambs can still arrive as late as the 28th.  Mornings and evenings, I walk through the flock looking for newborns; with me I carry my lambing bag containing iodine for navels, ear tags and spray marker.

This evening when Poem and I approached the lambing paddock the sun was low in the sky.  I told Poem to stay as I awkwardly hopped over the fence.  I could feel her eyes on me as I walked toward the sheep.  If I were to call her she would glide over the fence as if on wings and bound to my left side, look up then back at the sheep and await a command.  She waits on the other side of the fence and I'm proud of her. The sheep remain calm, I can look at them undisturbed.  And Poem is there if needs be.

I slowly make my way into the flock.  The ewes know me and ignore my presence, but the lambs stare at this odd, upright, two-legged creature among them.

No newborns that I can see, and the old pregnant ewe I've been waiting for is still a day or two away from lambing, but she is moving better today.  The weather has improved, the temperature is in the 60's and it sprinkled this afternoon.  The lambs look good and the pasture is lush. 

It's a great day to be a sheep.

I turned away from the flock to see Poem with her prick-ears waiting for my call.  Lucky dog, me.  I started back to her and came upon this little family.

 

Mama and her three week old twins