Lamb Chops and the rest of the herd are celebrating with a day of grazing out in the orchard . . . as soon as I take them out to the orchard.     Ingrid, the American Buff goose,  and her snowy white Embden companions heard the news that I’m making a special trip today,
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The woods here are greening.  In the understory the wild rose bushes, buckbrush, and honeysuckle vines are leafing out.  The willows and elms already have tiny leaves, and even the buds on the oaks are swelling.  Oddly, these signs of spring have made me realize something I’ll miss about winter.    I’ll miss the tree
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