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.