Spring is on its way. I know this because I heard a different sound on my daily walk today. The sound of the shalders, or the oyster catchers. They are back and going off in their pairs.
I walked with Taktur, my Icelandic stallion, today. It is part of his training régime that we have agreed with Bjørn and part of mine that I was forced to agree with my surgeon (grumble, grumble).
We went for miles, plodding along together, high up into the open hill.
Not much sign of spring there, but in the garden the crocuses are trying to make the effort (against all odds, such as Celt’s clodhoppers).
Always lovely to see the snowdrops in their small clumps, as if they are making a quiet political statement about the end of winter.
While the daffs are just rent-a-mob all over the garden.
The boys seem happier. The bale has made a huge difference as the grass is not growing yet.
Soon we will get our shedding blades and scissors out to attack the winter coats of the yearlings. Their coats do not shed naturally and turn quickly into revolting tats. I love them when they are all beautiful and fluffy like this.
Indy Ping Pong is practising his “come to bed” eyes for the potential laydeeez. We are just working out, whilst considering the market potential, who will be running with him this year.
Come on Spring, hurry up. We need some grass. Don’t lull me into a false sense of security and then start snowing (done that before).