Spring has taken its own sweet time here at the Estate.
By Frances Thrasher
Spring has taken its own sweet time here at the Estate.
After three hot days in April, we plunged right back into winter with below-freezing nights and more than one fire lit in the fireplace or out at the fire pit.
But the sounds of baby birds still echo through the woods and pastures. Flight school has started in the barn as the swallows line their babies along the fence rails to teach them how to fly.
Thank goodness the barn cats are all so well fed that they scarcely notice the baby birds.
The horses are finally shedding their thick winter coats, and the nesting eagles back in the woods seem to have finished stealing hay from the fields for their enormous nests.
The bright green of the new leaves hardly looks real… how can chlorophyll shine so brightly in spring? It feels almost magical.
The little peepers down by the stream are busy singing their chorus each evening alongside the wood frogs. Time to start looking for tadpoles again.
The hens are laying steadily and acting terribly broody — perhaps next year we shall add a tiny bantam roo to expand the flock.
Still feeding the deer as we wait for the first fawns and their precious white spots to appear.
The Estate has finally woken from its cold and snowy rest. Each evening, as the air grows warmer and softer, it becomes harder to come back inside. The sweet smell of hay, warm earth, and dew is intoxicating and soothes the soul in a way only spring can.