A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a single moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment to pause, savor and remember. Participating with the SouleMama blog
Pink and Asher are two very curious pups. Under the corral gate and off to explore they go. Just a few yards into the pasture and they can watch the big girls in Liam's paddock. They really love to watch them and are on their best behavior... no barking, just a lot of 'guarding'. Then when we call "Come, puppies, come", they squeeze back under the corral gate and come running. It is so wonderful to observe their natural inclinations to be good livestock guardian dogs.
A Friday ritual.
A single photo - no words - capturing a single moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment to pause, savor and remember.
Participating with the SouleMama blog
Breeding groups are finally all set up, and we are depending on our good fences to keep the rams on their best behavior. We still have some hoof trimming to accomplish with Aragorn's ladies but we've got the breeding harness on him in the meantime.
We were blessed with a gofer full of unsaleable pumpkins by our friends at Vested Heirs Farm. They provide some bright spots in the somewhat dreary pasture, and the flock is definitely enjoying the late autumn treat. Joining The Run*A*Round Ranch Report for Good Fences
Messenger by Mary Oliver My work is loving the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird— equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. Here the clam deep in the speckled sand. Are my boots old? Is my coat torn? Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work, which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished. The phoebe, the delphinium. The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture. Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,
which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart and these body-clothes, a mouth with which to give shouts of joy to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam, telling them all, over and over, how it is that we live forever.