Winter has landed, the landscape is now snow. It is colder than needed and wind hasn’t stopped blowing for three days. With the arrival of snow the ewes began bedding at a yard located on the land they’re grazing. No one has lived there for years and it’s full of tall, tall grass, old buildings and abandoned farm material – and it’s surrounded by trees and protected by hills along one side. They are reluctant to push into the yard proper at this point but don’t need to to be sheltered. It’s little wonder that they chose to bed down here.
Last evening the wind was particularly bitter and unusually blowing in from the South. I found the ewes at the north west corner of the pasture, no where near the yard location. The girls were in a deep and wide valley of native prairie grass well mixed with and surrounded by trees. As soon as I dipped into there on the Ranger I could feel the cessation of the wind. I looked for guardian dogs who one by one sauntered up for supper.
This was a good spot to hole up in the weather but it was well away from the yard where I had set the dog houses for the guardians. Taking the flock all the way back there meant a trek straight into the wind.
“Do we move them?” I spoke to Coyote Mic, sitting in the drivers spot of the Ranger seat. I brought her along in case of just such a need. Her long snout lifted at the sound of my words, her eyes catching mine only for a moment before returning to watch sheep in front of her. Of course, she thought we should move them.
“Nah, sorry girl, I think we can trust them on this.” Trust that they know where to be, trust their choice to stay put on this ugly evening. I think.
I collected food bowls and took one more long look around. I scooted Mic over, reclaiming the drivers seat, and began poking my way home. The wind hurt and snow pelted my face as I drove. I questioned the choice to leave the ewes alone.
This morning everyone was bedded right where they parked last night. The wind had changed direction and now blew in from the north but no matter, their valley spot protected them. The dogs each had a deep and cozy spot and looked comfortable.
The wind finally died down this afternoon but I still expected to find the ewes in the north west corner again. Nope, they were back at the abandoned yard tonight. Judging by the tracks in the snow the guardian dogs had been re-investigating their dog houses, perhaps making sure no interlopers had made use of them on their one night away.
The start of every winter plays at the level of trust I have in the animals to know where they need to be. To trust that we’ve readied them for the season as best we can by providing what is needed even if it doesn’t look like the usual four walls and a roof. These sheep are good. We can trust in that.
