The ewe flock is nestled in the low spot of a dry slough bottom, trees and light bush on three sides. Over the past week they have hardly moved. The only time they venture out is to get water. It’s cold enough that even the wool sheep are cold but they are doing fine nestled in here as they are. Each morning we weasel the tractor into their tidy grove and feed / bed them right where they are despite doing so on top of some of the previous days manure. It’s all frozen anyway and it’s too damn cold to feed in the open.
A spell of bitter cold weather is typical on the northern prairie and no doubt time has erased the sting of all past cold weather days. But every year this kind of cold makes me nervous no matter how many years I’ve lived in it. There is no way to prepare for the hidden dangers of bitter cold weather. The smallest molehill of a mishap becomes a mountain of distress, which seems a wee bit too reflective of the world situation right now and compounds the feeling of coldness seeping into my bones.
The side by side vehicle will not run – the battery is frozen. In the morning I have the use of the tractor to travel out with and feed with. In the evening I stack dishes of food into a pail with a handle and walk out to feed the guardian dogs.
The cessation of the wind when stepping into the grove where the sheep are bedding is a beautiful reprieve. On one particularly windy evening I stood in this slough bottom pocket with the ewes and watched the snow blowing across the landscape of hills, erasing any distinction between land and sky. It created the sensation that maybe there was no solid earth at my feet after all.
Song lyrics came to mind while I watched the blowing snow.
“I come from a land that is harsh and unforgiving, where the snows can kill you and the summer burn you dry.”
—- Canadian singer/songwriter Connie Kaldor
Cutting words, truthful and fitting. There is full understanding in these lyrics.
We are forecast to be moving out of the deep cold in the upcoming week. Today the temperatures rose a few degrees above – 30 Celsius and it felt positively hopeful outside. The Kelpies and I played a good game of fetch in the bright winter sunshine this morning. Any warm up will be a distinctive relief peppered with satisfaction of having navigated extremes.