So everything is changing, all of the time? So fine, then. But one thing I am learning about farming is that everything changes all of the time, and even so, it’s still based in cycles. Cyclical. Cyc … lik … cal. Even the word itself sounds like progressive movement, forward motion.
No one day is the same. How boring it would be if it was. But same is safe, and you know what I mean.
So here’s to the future, and a bumpy ride, because at least we know we’re alive.
And here’s a brief introduction to our latest arrivals:
Classic heads-in-a-corner pose. See the little ones my mum reared, on the outside of the pack? I didn’t dare photograph them while they were little, didn’t want to jinx them.
The funny thing is, the little goslings have no feathers yet, but they are sharp. It would seem that as with everything, small is also mighty. Although they keep standing on their own feet, which is silly.
The goose patrol has been circling the compound in disgust, horrified that we could even imagine getting more geese.