Not often in March is the weather warm enough to sit outside in the late evening glow and watch the sun go down in a display of colour in the western sky.
Not so this past Easter weekend. The late afternoon sun had melted the sheets of slippery ice from the driveway’s surface, making it possible for me to park my butt on Jennie, my jitney, and scoot around, talking to the animals.
Having taken the time to scratch the ears of Betty, Wilma and Darrel, the three big black Berkshire brood sows, while their respective young lay sleeping in piles under the heat lamps, I wandered on to count the baby goats, six, to four young mothers, as they bounced around in, catch-me-if-you-can, mock head-bunting battle.
I then spent the better part of the next hour playing and training, where I could, the two Pyrenees puppies, Bonnie and Bell. They are now creeping close to 50 pounds each. Nothing pleases me more than their progression.
From there, I went and parked my butt on Jennie beneath the west-facing overhang of the barn. I settled down to watch and listen to the birds, their songs starting to dwindle, as the darkness slowly shadowed its way across the entire countryside. The ambience, lighting and quietness in the country at this time in the evening create a feeling of satisfaction lacking words of explanation.
It was pleasant sitting there watching the stars come out. In the background, I could hear the brooding sows quietly snorting their happy little contented conversations. The nursing young lined side by side along their double row of evenly spaced nipples. On occasion, you could hear the squealing of a disgruntled piglet, on being roughly rooted aside by one of its siblings who ruthlessly tried to steal a sip or two from its neighbour’s nipple. A louder grunt from their mother seemed to have settled any argument they may have had.
As the daylight slipped into darkness, I could hear the tap, tap, tap of a red-bellied woodpecker as it tapped its far-reaching Morse-code whereabouts on the yard light hydro pole. From somewhere in the distance, I could faintly hear a rat-a-tat-tat answer. In the shadows of the snow-patched gully came the repeated mournful coo-coo-coo of a mourning dove.
Looking west, all I could now see was the top half of the huge fireball sun as it sank within moments beyond the faraway tree line, leaving behind magnificent shades of pink, red and yellow, within the clouds that lingered a little longer. Tomorrow will be Easter Sunday, time for me to wander in, nibble a chunk of the chocolate bunny that the Easter bunny obviously brought, and head up the twist in the stairs to bed.
In the meantime, folks, having a little space left, I think it is once again time for me to jog your memory to mark your calendar. Here, in part, are the contents of a flyer that crossed my desk about a week ago. “Saugeen Valley Fur and Feather Fanciers Association, Buy-Sell-Trade Day, Sunday, April 24, 2016, Mount Forest Fairgrounds. King Street East. Please note: Parking fee inside fairgrounds is $10. Free entrance for pedestrians.”
By the way, it is perfectly legal to adopt, if need be, a neighbour’s kid for a day and bring them along with you to enjoy a hot dog, hamburger, hot chocolate or coffee at the outdoor food both. If anyone gives you a hassle about doing this, just tell them that Barrie said it’s okay.
I hope to be there, but this year, for the first time, not as a vendor. See you then.
Take care, ’cause we care.
barrie@barriehopkins.ca
519-986-4105