Lambs capers.

Early morning finds me gazing through the bedroom window, first cup of tea of the day in hand. In the field over the garden wall are sheep and their lambs. I watch with amusement as two tiddlers size each other up, small heads down, brow to brow; laughing to myself at the tentative head-butt. thought better of as tiny hooves struggle for purchase on dew-soaked grass. Point made, one mite calls pax with a shake of the head and a feeble spring from all fours before the pair of them go their separate ways to find mums and nourishment for a more spirited sparring.
No doubt a few more days will see them joining the gang that huddles in corners before racing pell-mell with the pack to the far reaches of emerald-green turf contained by limestone walls.
Battles posponed, rivalry forgotten; pals united out on a spree.

One thought on “Lambs capers.

  1. CarrieR

    Oh Eileen, I wish I had your poetic style! In fact, you are so good, I look forward to a regular blog!

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