New-born: lambs, Julian, and Ps 23

A pair of wee blackie lambs basking in the
Iona sunshine last week,
possibly plotting world domination...

We are coming to the end of lambing time in hill and valley parish. Possibly my most favourite season of the farming year - although I have the luxury of enjoying watching the lambs bouncing and playing without actually doing any of the work. I continue to admire and respect the farmers around the area: while working in beautiful countryside, yet, it's still hard graft.
A nice touch of continuity was had, however, last week when on Iona with a group of RevGals - lots of cute blackie lambs about the place, playing chase before bedtime just as they do down here.
Anyway, have been thinking about lambs...

NEW-BORN/
Musing on lambs, Mother Julian, and Ps 23:

Smell
of hay and sheep
fills barn;
shepherd watches,
waits.
Low ‘baah’ meets
shrill bleat.
New-born,
surprised and stunned
sits still,
unsure.
Exhausted
mother licks him clean,
hears his tiny quick-beat heart.
Then, movement;
shaky.
Fragile limbs
testing,
stretching,
feeling.
Shuggling,
struggling, wriggling;
knees push
white, wiry matchsticks.
Unsteady,
body rising
as hoof finds floor.
Wobble-walking,
muscles memorise movement.
Cautious, curious;
confidence builds
then colllapses
in small, splayed heap.
Wee bleat,
then hay shuffles
as rickety legs rise.
Shepherd nods
a brief smile,
then moves on,
another yow
to tend.
All is well,
all is well.
And all
shall be well.
              c.Nik Macdonald