Willow's First Taste

 

In a lush meadow nestled amidst the towering trees of the forest, Willow, a young deer, stood on wobbly legs. It was her first day venturing beyond the safety of her mother’s watchful gaze, eager to explore the world around her.

The morning sun cast a warm golden glow, painting the landscape in hues of green and gold. As the gentle breeze whispered through the tall grass, Willow caught a whiff of its sweet fragrance. Intrigued, she tiptoed closer, barely making a sound.

The grass bowed under the weight of morning dew, glistening like tiny diamonds scattered across the earth. Willow’s heart raced with excitement as she watched a butterfly flit from flower to flower, drinking in its sweet nectar.

Driven by a newfound curiosity, Willow inched closer, her eyes fixed on the emerald sea before her. Her nose quivered with anticipation as she extended her slender neck, reaching out to taste her first blade of grass.

At first, she hesitated. After all, she had only known her mother’s milk until now. As she brushed her tongue against the velvety grass, a burst of flavor exploded within her mouth. With each tender nibble, Willow felt a surge of energy.

As she feasted, the forest whispered its approval. The ancient trees bowed their branches acknowledging the passing of the torch from one generation to the next. They knew this fawn would grow into a creature as majestic and wise as the forest itself.

With her belly full and spirit awakened, the young deer stood tall. The grass gave Willow a taste of independence. With it, she took her first step toward becoming the guardian of the forest—a symbol of strength and harmony in a world of boundless wonder.

 Sunnie heading to the pond for a drink of water.

Happy Sunday!

In the dappled sunlight of a warm summer evening, Chester, a small rabbit, found himself in a precarious situation. With wide eyes and twitching whiskers, he crouched low amidst the swaying grass, his heart pounding in his chest. Just beyond the perimeter of the grassy lawn, a sturdy fence stood tall, enclosing a boisterous dog named Gus, full of playful energy. Chester knew he had to stay hidden, relying on his natural camouflage to blend seamlessly with the emerald blades surrounding him. Every rustle of wind or distant bark sent a jolt of fear through his delicate frame, urging him to stay motionless and invisible to the prying eyes of the canine. With bated breath, the rabbit held his position, hoping for a chance to escape the watchful gaze and find sanctuary beyond the reach of his eager pursuer.

Saturday Morning Backroad Ramble

 It was a gorgeous morning, so we loaded Gus (our red heeler) up in the truck and went for what we call 'a backroad ramble'.

First, we spotted this appaloosa colt and his mother. He was frisky, hopping around and kicking up his heals. I tried to upload a video, but it didn't work. He was so cute.

Then Hubby spotted this green heron in a tree.

I think I have a thing for paint horses. I had Hubby stop so I could take this shot.

As we drove up the road, I thought this was a pile of rocks, but as we got closer I discovered it was a pile of cows. :)

Pretty horses. Pretty colt.

Upon the return from our adventure, we had a welcoming committee. Reba, Ginger, and Bonnie. I think they were really just looking to see if there was food in the back of the truck. :)

When we drove off, Sunnie joined the group.

Have a wonderful Saturday!

Brahman Bull

Impressive Creature 

Humped cattle have been present in the United States since 1849, when a single bull of Indian origin was imported from the United Kingdom to South Carolina. Cross-breeding of humped cattle with local cows was the first step in the creation of the Brahman breed. The Brahman has a good tolerance of heat and is widespread in tropical regions. It is also resistant to insects thanks to its thick skin. Brahman cattle live longer than many other breeds, often producing calves at ages 15 and older.  

 Edge of Seventeen

Stevie Nicks

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, ooh, ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

And the days go by, like a strand in the wind

In the web that is my own, I begin again

Said to my friend, baby (everything stopped)

Nothin' else mattered

He was no more than a baby then

Well he seemed broken-hearted

Something within him

But the moment that I first laid

Eyes on him, all alone

On the edge of seventeen

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Well, I went today

Maybe I will go again tomorrow

Yeah yeah, well, the music there

Well, it was hauntingly familiar

Well, I see you doing what I try to do for me

With the words from a poet and a voice from a choir

And a melody, and nothing else mattered

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

The clouds never expect it when it rains

But the sea changes colours

But the sea does not change

So with the slow, graceful flow of age

I went forth with an age old desire to please

On the edge of seventeen

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Well, then suddenly there was no one

Left standing in the hall, yeah, yeah

In a flood of tears

That no one really ever heard fall at all

Well, I went searchin' for an answer

Up the stairs and down the hall

And not to find an answer

Just to hear the call

Of a nightbird singing, "Come away"

(Come away, come away)

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Well I hear you in the morning

And I hear you at nightfall

Sometimes to be near you

Is to be unable to feel you, my love

I'm a few years older than you

(I'm a few years older than you) my love

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Songwriters: Stevie Nicks.

“Edge of Seventeen” is a song by Stevie Nicks that was released in 1981. The song was inspired by the death of John Lennon and Nicks’ uncle. The white-winged dove in the song represents the spirit leaving the body on death, and some of the verses capture her experience of the days leading up to her uncle Jonathan's death.

Trail Ride

It was a gorgeous day for the 6th Annual Bobby E. Hatton Memorial Scholarship Trail Ride at Dunbroke Farm—70 degrees and sunshine. Four students received scholarships, then it was time to enjoy barbecue, potato salad, and beans, along with a variety of desserts. Following chow, the auctioneer went to work. The generosity of the items donated by the community was amazing.

 

Foggy Morning

This is the first morning to have a new horse in the front pasture, so we wanted to make sure she didn't find a way to escape. The fog was so thick, we couldn't find any of the four horses. A little while later, I was able to zoom in and see all of them.

This is Sunnie, she is a lineback dun. 

Reba, on the left, is a red roan. 

Bonnie, on the right, is a bay.

Ginger is a chestnut.

Happy Monday!

Chester

 

In a quiet corner of the Crow’s backyard, Chester, a male house finch, perched upon a sturdy branch. The warm rays of sunshine colored his feathers a vibrant red. His brown eyes twinkled with excitement as he observed Rosie, a female house finch, hopping nearby. Her feathers were a blend of light browns and subtle pinks. Enchanted by her delicate beauty, Chester puffed out his chest, feeling proud to call her his mate.

With a graceful flutter of her wings, Rosie approached the feeder hanging from a tree. The tantalizing aroma of fresh seeds promised a tasty feast. Chester felt a profound sense of responsibility for Rosie’s safety, so he hopped onto a branch above the feeder to keep a watchful eye over his love.

He hopped from one branch to the other, chattering away, remembering their adventures and explaining the wonders of the world beyond the yard. She listened intently, her soft peeps mingling with his chirps, creating a symphony of affection and companionship.

A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it a faint whisper of danger. Chester’s instincts kicked in, his bright eyes scanning the surroundings for signs of trouble. Although he didn’t see the enemy, he sensed a lurking presence—a predator on the prowl.

In an instant, Chester alerted Rosie to the impending threat. His wings urgently fluttered as he urged her to flee with him to safety. Without hesitation, they took flight, wings beating in unison, carrying them away from the menacing bird of prey.

They soared through the air, leaving danger behind. He guided her through narrow gaps between branches and led her to a secluded grove, far from the prying eyes of predators.

As they landed on a sheltered branch, their hearts pounded from fear and exertion. They perched side by side, panting, but relieved to have escaped unscathed. Chester nuzzled Rosie affectionately, his gentle voice filled with adoration for the brave female beside him.

Once they felt safe, the two returned to their favorite backyard, where Chester continued to watch over his Rosie for the rest of their days.