Popping up to freezing, and then into the snow

Yes. You read that right.

Yesterday our temperatures rose to freezing point and oh it was lovely. Remember, I am not complaining, or comparing, merely reporting. We reached freezing and it was lovely!  32.0F (00.0C).. And for the record Mr Fahrenheit was bonkers!   What was he thinking?  But who is Mr Celcius? Anyway. Why can’t these scientists agree on a number!

It is now NOT too cold to snow.

Everyone was out. The snow was not expected until night time. And just a little at that.

Except Mama. Mama stood at her gate in the barn and repeatedly asked me to let her out into the field. Leave me there, she said.

You need looking after,  I said. Your poo is still a bit runny.

Don’t talk about my poo in public.  I raised you better than that. Let me out.  She said, Let me out.

Plain as day.

There is snow coming, I told her.  They are forecasting 2 to 4 inches. I am a sheep, she told me. Have you seen how much wool I have?  I belong in the cold.  I spit on snow. I need to cool down. I will come back in if I need to. Let me out.

But one thing I know for sure, she said as she marched out  the gate and into the field, this barn is not where I want to be.  Too smelly. Germs, miss c. Germs.

I checked her late last night, I climbed over gates and through the fences,  the snow lightening the sky, my gumboots crunching on the newest of snow. Everything was light, the dark cold air was light,  it was not my torch creating the light – it was as though each little flake of snow had its own light, a glow, a  blush, a white rose at dusk,  like the whisper of a tiny angel, the tiniest, driftiest, mutest of lights, silver and diamonds as miniature melting  sandcastles,  floating down past my cheek.

Yet they combined to make one glow, not a million individual ones like fireflies, but one cloud of light that reflected down from the vast heavy sky and back up from the snow.  They drift to the ground with a tiny unheard cry, a shard of alchemy. Gold that is silver. Shooting their crystal reflections back upwards as they fade. Gathering in the wool Mama wore.  Sparkling there. She was resting, leaning up against the barn, sheltered from the snow. Covered in twinkling gossiping white perfect snowflakes.  Go to bed, she said. You are such a worrier. It is so nice out here. I don’t know how you can sleep in an airless house like that. Off you go now.

It was beautiful outside in the gently falling snow.  Beautiful as a real word. Strangely warm. Safe almost. Sad.

But,  I am afraid you are going to die out here, I said.

Mama just looked at me. I am a sheep, she said. I will be how I am meant to be. I don’t need to fight and rage and make speeches. I just breathe and when I stop, I stop. This cool fresh air is all this old sheep needs for the moment.Thankfully I will not need to grow old like you might. Being a human looks so heavy.

I nodded, she kindly let me scratch the top of her head but shook her head when I tried to feel her ears.

So I left her. As I walked back through the barn – Sheila said.  There you are. Yoo Hoo!   Yoo Hoo.  Avon Lady! If you are desperate to do something for someone, push more of that straw up against my body on that other side. N,o not that side, the other side.  I have a draft. Mad said I could have an electric blanket! Where is it!? I promise not to bite it!

Mama snorted from outside. That pig.

Who are you calling a pig?!

It snowed, the sun is not up yet so I am not sure how much but it looks like enough.  No wind or wildness. Just softly falling snow. All night.

Life must be able to be how it is. We can only do our best. So long as we Know it was our best. So long as we Know it in our heart of hearts where no-one needs an answer. Only you.

When the sun rises we will see what we will see. 

Have a lovely day.

your friend on the farmy

celi