Frosty Friday

I slept in the other morning. When I awoke, the sun was shining at about nine o’clock high. When I looked out of my upstairs sitting room window, I could tell that only a wisp of snow had fallen during the night, as the animal tracks still appeared fresh where they had wandered the day previous.

Looking farther beyond, I could see that hoarfrost sparkled on each of the wire fences that enclosed the paddocks and farther back in the far-reaching pastures. Beyond that, I could see in the distance the leafless hardwood bush on the hillside that corners our farm. No words could describe its beauty; it was not unlike a low-lying cloud that had, as I, slept in. Its outspread reach of sparkling diamonds mingled well with those on the snow of the field that lay covered before it. It looked, without doubt, as though I was the richest man in the world.

Later, as I sat sipping my morning coffee on the out front porch, I could feel the sun getting warmer and warmer. The richness I saw spread out before me disappeared quietly and quickly in minutes that could be counted on only one hand. The bitchy side of my brain, rightly so, compared the disappearance of the diamonds to that of the way governments – municipal, provincial and federal – are spending the hard-earned tax dollar extracted without concern, or giving a damn, from the pockets of hardworking, over-stressed workers.

Needless to say, with a couple more sips of coffee, while enjoying the warm morning sun, my mood soon changed, and my gaze switched back to the animals that romped in their respective paddocks. My son had just released Sage, our appaloosa mare, and the two llamas, Larry and Dolly, from their stalls in the barn, and all three seemed to be enjoying the sunshine.

I could hear the clip-clop of Sage’s hooves on the frozen ground as she galloped in what appeared to be a figure eight several times round. Then she lay down and rolled over time and time again. On rising, she shook the snow off that she had rubbed into her coat. Then contented, she wandered over to munch some hay from the rack.

Larry and Dolly appeared to be walking on air as they, light-footed, circled the fence line with their forward stare and banana-shaped ears pointing upward and straight ahead. It seemed they were more interested in who might be infringing on their territory than what was up and about. They, too, joined Sage, their side-by-side stablemate, on the sunny-side of the hay rack.

The goats, as they are due to drop their young at any time, are kept housed in a roomy communal pen within the barn, while the heritage Berkshire hogs, having their own lined-up barracks, romp in and out while pushing and shoving however, whenever, and wherever they should so desire. It is fun to watch them romp in the snow while enjoying the warmth of the winter sun.

It is time now for me to get off my butt and go let Bell and Bonnie, our Santa-brought Pyrenees pups, out for a run and romp in the snow. Boy! They are sure growing fast!

Take care ‘cause we care.




Barrie Hopkins