Today was pretty uneventful, which is actually nice. Last night, though, we were treated to a spectacular sunset. I can't really experience sunsets from the house, because we are surrounded by trees and this is all I get.
My son came up with the idea to drive down the road to where it's more open. That turned out to be a really good call.
What a spectacular display! I still only have my phone camera, which I have little skill with, but some of them came out okay. Nobody who drove past me while I was parked on the side of the road looked at me funny, because it was obvious that I was there to enjoy the view.
After the depressing day I had yesterday with the goose funeral and the grieving duck, this felt cathartic in a weird way. Like the universe was giving a gift to make up for taking the birds. I may be reading too much into it, but on the sad days you find comfort where you can.
Goose Duck was still sitting his vigil this morning, sleeping on the spot where we put the goose when we got her out of the water. By late morning, he had wandered down to join the rest of the flock. I guess he has accepted the situation and is moving on, but I had a horrible stress dream last night and I think it's because I feel guilty about not removing this hazard before it caused this kind of disaster. I can't help but feel responsible for every bad thing that befalls any animal on my farm.
We've been having thunder again this afternoon. This is really strange for us. We will sometimes get thunderstorms in the spring, but not usually this late in the season. The storms are bringing a little rain, which is much appreciated, although it means we will have to pump out the cistern again. We need another five inches of rain before it dries out for the summer, but it's not looking like that's going to happen. That means we will be on water watch much earlier than usual. The animals get as much water as they want, no matter what, but we have to be careful how much we use in the house.
It's almost time to do chores again, and since it's raining, the goats will be pretty cranky if I'm late. They nag based on the amount of light in the sky. I milk at 8:00 every morning, all year round, but the evening chore time changes depending on the length of the day. In the dead of winter its 4:00 or 4:30. In the summer it's at 7:00. Tonight, though, with the storm clouds, it's darker than usual and they will be yelling at me any minute now.
I sent my son down to the closer goat property to pick up a bale of hay, since our barn is empty, and he just called me to say that all the goats are in the barn! Not where they're supposed to be! He managed to get them back where they belong all by himself, which is a nice perk of marginally coerced labor. He doesn't like farm work, but if he stays here he has to help, and apparently he's learned a few things along the way.
The light is fading, at least in my sunset pictures, so I will leave you with one last shot that looks a little like the end of the world. Apparently it wasn't, because we all seem to be here still. Thanks to all of you who offered sympathy about my sad post yesterday. Sometimes I feel like an idiot, getting upset about a bird. But I empathize with creatures of all kinds, and my heart doesn't discriminate.
Good night, everyone, and be thankful for all the creatures that love you, whether they have fur, feathers, or boots and bad attitudes!