Last week, while attempting to carry hay to the animals, I tripped, and fell so hard that I dislocated my shoulder. Recovery is slow and uncomfortable. Yesterday I let myself get into a bit of a blue funk over this state of affairs. I can't work, or do many of my normal daily routines, until my shoulder is much better.
After stewing a while I took myself outside. Here in Maine spring is late in arriving, but out in the pasture, with the goats nuzzling me and cadging treats, I heard a loon call loudly from the nearby lake. One of my favorite sounds, it was a treat to hear it echoing in the chill air . A bluebird flitted past me, the chickens chased one hen who had found a worm in the thawing soil. Outside, with the animals around me, I felt my glum mood slip away.
Once the treats were gone from my pockets the goats began to frolic about, head butting one another, racing around, leaping into the air with a grace that belies their size. I smiled. I laughed a little.
I was thankful to be reminded of all the good around me. My goats seem to spend precious little time worrying. But they spend a lot of time being joyful.
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