Afternoon Out!

"Are you ready to go?" I asked my husband. He  had been enjoying sitting outside at our son's place, mesmerized by the farm animals. I loved it, too, especially on such a gorgeous, early June day with blue skies and perfect temperatures. The bright green of tree leaves fluttering in the canopy of branches overhead invited dawdling in the shade.  But I was not as fascinated as was Howard, myself always being one who gave something a once-over-lightly glance before moving on to something else.

I didn't want to hurry my spouse, though, as this was therapy of mind, body and soul for him as he recuperates from heart surgery over two months ago, and other issues recently. So I settled down and tried to relax.  As I did, I started noticing little vignettes played out before me, beginning with the pigs.

I had brought out a pail of  table scraps for the pink ladies as I do a few times a week.  This time it contained a jug of chocolate milk (requested and rejected by my husband's finicky appetite) that was going sour. The "girls" were beside themselves with joy. The bigger sister wriggled her fat body into the feeding trough and her smaller sister slid in under her, gobbling crescents of cantaloupe rinds, a half-eaten apple and other by now unidentifiable mushiness. They were in hog heaven, you might say.

Next it was time for their beauty treatment in the mud puddle forming beside their overflowing water tub being filled by the garden hose. The chocolate-coated porkers wallowed blissfully and stretched luxuriously, becoming blacker by the minute. It wasn't long until they lazed quietly, sleepily drifting off, the picture of porcine contentment.

Suddenly I saw some kind of small animal silhouetted against the far fence. "It's a kitten!" I exclaimed. Greg had recently acquired four young cats as mousers for the barn, but they had disappeared. Their food was disappearing regularly though, and the litter box was being used. Then we spotted a trio in the dimness by the feeding dish, an apparition of two gray clouds with a black shadow between them.  The shy felines were back, and the mice had made themselves scarce.

"I want to see how the turkeys have grown!" I announced. The guys had bought three baby turkeys a few weeks ago, and two more lately, replacing the loss of one that died. We wondered how the "teen-age" birds would adjust to the new ones, but Greg told me he had found the babies perched on the older one's backs!  How cute! They were getting along  just fine, and the bigger poults had developed beautiful wing feathers and fan tails!

I couldn't believe my eyes when a glance at the goat pen revealed the baby goat high on a tree trunk! Not a bent, easy-to-climb tree as before, but a perfectly upright one!  The mama goat was trying to climb it too, but being heavier, she slipped back.  I was terrified that her off-spring couldn't get down, but when her hooves began to slip, the nimble kid sprang the several feet to the ground easily. Then she ran even higher up the tree! So fascinating!

As the chickens foraged contentedly, scurrying here and there, I was aware of a rat-a-tat-tat sounding hollowly in the background. "What is that noise?" I questioned aloud, to which my son said, "A woodpecker!"  I strained my eyes to see it, but it was hidden in the denseness of its leafy bower. There was a lot going on at the farm, I concluded, as I urged my husband, tired by this time, toward home!