Warmth and Sun

The weather pattern seems to be shifting and pulling us out of the path of the constant rain and cool temperatures. In Maine, it's common for spring weather to take its time but this year has been unlike any other I can remember. The leaves on the trees are just beginning to pop and lilacs are not fully out yet, but slowly starting. The bleeding heart bushes are beautiful and tulips that did make it through the winter are gorgeous. The rain has slowed so much of spring's flower show, but it feels like what we're starting to see was worth the wait.

Bleeding Heart

Early May Morning

This weekend will be a big one in the garden...planting the tomatoes and putting in the seedlings that have been started indoors. A flat of cucumbers, summer squash and delicata squash have been sprouting on my windowsill for weeks now and hardening on the back deck for the past couple of days.  They are leggy and eager for sun - like the rest of us.

Time Warp

Handsome Ram Bill

The day job has ramped up and kept me from posting too much in recent weeks. Admittedly, I have missed the writing and am eager for long, summer days with more time for reading and writing and playing with wool. 

The shearing day went very well, and although the weather has not been anything close to warm, I think the sheep are more comfortable with less wool on them. Piles and piles of fleeces are waiting for me to get to them - another lament of the demands of the day job during these final weeks of school. 

trimmed ewes

raw wool

The lambs look almost as big as their mothers now, which is always wild to see. They are starting to wean themselves, too. I have never felt good about pushing that process; rather, I have always let them work it out and eventually when they can no longer fit under their mothers they wean themselves.

Whether weaning lambs or waiting for the sun, I've found it's better not to hurry up nature. It doesn't work anyway. Things happen when they happen. No sooner, no later.

Got Wool?

The Links are coming to shear tomorrow. Always a big day at the farmette, and this year will be a bumper crop with ten full fleeces. I am excited and also eager to find a mill to work with in the coming years.  Spent some extra time in the barn yesterday afternoon and got some great shots, so I will let the images speak for themselves...

peeking from behind mom

Bella and Mercy

Miss Callie, the matriarch

wooly palette

Finding Feathers. Looking for Orioles.

It's May. The Winter of 2011 is over. Finally. We have green grass, buds on trees and flowers blooming everywhere. The geese are returning along with a multitude of other species of winged creatures, including an incredible finch who has been impressing me for years with his repertoire but has only just allowed me to see him. I have a small birdhouse that he's claimed, and he has been entertaining me every morning with his cheery song list.

Yesterday morning, something happened that just felt too special to not mean something significant. I wandered out into the pasture to drop a small pile of hay for the girls, as I often do when the grass isn't quite enough to sustain them for the day, and I found an incredible feather on the grass very close to where the sheep have their morning meal. I picked it up, looked into the sky (like the bird would still be up there, really?) and smiled at my Annie Dillard moment. Upon walking into the barn, I found another incredible feather on the hay strewn floor; this was especially weird, as the feather was in perfect shape and the barn doors had been closed all night. How the sheep did not trample the delicate thing is a mystery...right along with how it got in there in the first place. Holding both of the these feathers and smiling away as I walked up the hill to the house, I could not believe it when I found a third feather on my front step. Granted, this one was small and probably a result of either Loki or Odin bothering a bird in the front bushes, but it was resting in the center of the step and impossible to miss as I walked into the house.

three feathers

After doing a little research yesterday, I believe the grey and white one (which I found first) may be that of a peregrine falcon. From what I found online, it appears that the other large one could belong to a red-tailed hawk. The little one is from either a starling or a robin, I believe. Whatever they are and from whomever they fell, I feel pretty lucky to have found them all.

And, on another aviary note, my attempts to lure the orioles back to my yard have begun. I sliced two oranges in half and impaled them onto branches of my forsythia bush, close to where they had made a nest several years ago.  The old lilac that they had called home several years ago came down in a wild storm and their beautiful, empty nest came down with it. I admired the beauty and craftsmanship of their nest for years before it finally decomposed and I added it to the compost pile. Hoping for their return ro to be able to enjoy flashes of bright orange birds for months to come.

Oranges for Orioles