The Haunting
Boy oh boy it’s almost spring, can you feel it? Here the weather is turning into that nearly perfect, in-between-things season. It’s dry and breezy and it smells like things brewing right there beneath your feet. Grasses and wildflowers and weeds and wild onions – they’re down there just stretching out and thinking about waking up again. The sun is out longer, just long enough again, finally. And, oh lord, don’t you think it’s time? This winter felt long.
This weekend’s weather made me so festive that I broke out the ‘ol hipstamatic which, for some reason, always seems to make pictures look like it’s summer. Circa 1976. (I guess. I wasn’t even a twinkle in anyone’s eye in 1976…)
Boo and his minions feel it too. They’re clearly grateful not to wake up with a coat covered in frost.
Winter was exhausting for everyone, but for this baby donkey, in particular.
He collapsed suddenly, and quite dramatically, in a pile. With a little sigh. Shut his eyes and sunbathed. Take a load off, Boo. 
But then today, as I was locking gates and putting things in their place, a wind came from the north, just over the forest. A cold, cold breeze that instantly caused goosebumps. As if on cue, a hoot owl called from the same direction. Long and low and four times in succession.
This winter hasn’t left us yet. It lingers like some old spirit not yet ready to move along. But it will move along soon enough.