I got home from Saratoga, got into my new brace, and saw how beautiful a day it was. I decided to take my first very short walk in the braces.

(Above, Liam the stoic)

Walking around outside is something I have not been able to do for too long except for short excursions around the pasture.

I’m getting free to roam again. I hope to visit my horse friend tomorrow.

The brace worked beautifully, and I headed out into the pasture with my Leica 2 in the Spring like the sun.

This is something I love to do in the late afternoon, just before my quiet hour which I will need today, after the furor I caused by giving an apple to a horse.

I’m happy to share some nice images from the farm. The donkeys are maneuvering for treats; the Imperious hens deigned to come out of their roost for the first time in a week, and the ice and snow are finally melting.

Life is good.

A week or so ago, the deep freeze rattled the hens, who wouldn’t come out of the roost until it got warmer and the snow and ice melted.

They are their old imperious selves, strutting about the farm and exploring for bugs and worms and things to eat.

It was great to see them out and walking.

 

Barns tell stories. Each one of these old chairs tells a story about a different chapter in the life of a farm, from the people who built it, to the farmers who left it to us. It’s a direct line; the chairs tell the story.

Every farm has stories to tell.

Merricat has grown up to be a beautiful ewe with wonderful wool; she even trusts me now to stare into the camera. I was happy to oblige. She has quite a face.

Real scarecrows made out of hay and straw are rare on farms now; farmers use electric-powered noise makers and fake owls and dogs.

I hadn’t seen a straw scarecrow in a long time; we passed this one on the way home from Saratoga Springs in front of an apple orchard.

He looks pretty healthy for a scarecrow.

The sheep are happy. They can graze a bit and pause and soak up the sun’s rays. It is good to see them warm and at ease again.

The hard part of winter is rough on all of us, as beautiful as it is.