The animal world can sure be loud.
First, I have a terrible story to tell. I think it turned out OK, but initially it looked…challenging. It started yesterday afternoon. It involved robins. Sigh. All of my trials and tribulations this spring involve robins…
I saw the baby robins near the garage with their beaks in the air, awaiting worms from mama and papa. Oh, didn’t they look cute? Wouldn’t it be an adorable prize-winning photograph? (Or at least something somewhat interesting to blog readers?) I moved close with camera lens zoomed in.
Suddenly the nearest half-upright robin baby from the above photo, taken a couple days before, shot straight up in the air, scared to death as the camera approached him. Then he flew! Across the grass, toward the safety of the woods, away from the crazy human, he flew low but sure, his wings flapping.
My heart stopped in fear. About the time the mama and papa began screaming and dive-bombing me. It was awful. Horrible. I almost cried, seriously, thinking I might have prematurely caused the robin to leave the nest. That the robin might die because of my camera greed.
The parents were angry, and rightly so. Dive-bombing continued for the next five minutes as I ducked and cowered and got out of there as quickly as possible. Apologies didn’t seem to help. Their clamor was shrill and piercing. Alas.
However, early this morning Barry announced that all the other baby robins were gone. Flown away. Left the nest. Suddenly I didn’t feel so guilty. Maybe it was TIME. They were ready to fly, and I just provided a slight…impetus. Whew. Guilt slightly abated…
Today I visited a farm. To visit the animals. Specifically, the sheep, the horses/mules and the chickens and bees. My friends Barbara and Evan live up in Herman. I haven’t visited their farm in over a year, so it was nice to tour their barns and fields. Very interesting and instructive. It proved a fun morning.
First, came the ram. All the close-up photos of this curvy-horned fellow turned out fuzzy. Sorry. He scared me. Barbara warned me to stay away, as he’s protective of those female sheep. We eyed each other. I finally took a good photo as he meandered away with his flock.
The sheep baaaahhed and baaahhed quite unabashedly. There are at least a couple dozen of them. Barbara reported the lambing season progressed well this year, and they didn’t lose a single lamb. They have named all of them. She kept a steady litany going, sharing all their names. It amazed me that they could tell this black sheep from that black sheep, or this red one from that red one. I suppose when you’ve helped birth many of them into the world, it’s easy to identify their characteristics.
Then there were the chickens clucking and calling and carrying on. They were free-range beauties, pecking everywhere in the dirt, wandering into the woods.
Barbara gestured over toward the woods, at bee hives far beyond the sheep. Could we get a photo? She said there were a couple hives near the garden. We opened the fence and wandered in. Bees rested on the thousand dandelions leading up to the hives, buzzing in yellow splendor. We tried not to step on any.
Their dogs did not bark. Except perhaps when I pulled in the driveway. We finished our barnyard tour with tea and Babycakes muffins from Marquette. It was great to visit their farm again. Hope you all enjoyed it, as well!