After the Deluge
It’s been raining here. 7 inches in two weeks. The pond is a lake and the dry creeks are, well, wet creeks. 
Fences are bent over with the weight of debris and water rushing through them. And the grass is thick, green and abundant. This means that the livestock have been grazing in the front pasture again, trotting and kicking and displaying signs of general merriment and joy.
You don’t even have to be particularly fond of cows to get all warm and fuzzy watching them. Joy is joy whether it’s human or otherwise.
The other day I walked down to this pasture from the house to check on the animals and got a bit worried when I realized Seamus was missing. Until I heard a soft belching sound and looked up to find the gentle giant chewing his cud in his old house, the purple shed. He stayed in the shed all afternoon, watching the world from behind the rotting slats of wood. I think this was his way of asking for a barn; a request I’ve been making for years now. Someday buddy, someday.
