“When the grass is waving in the wind” is the standard for when sheep can begin to go out to graze in spring. We have had some very warm weather with cooler nights which has made the grass grow even faster than it might normally this time of year. Around June first is when I begin thinking the time is right. The sheep, on the other hand, have been standing at fence on the far side of their winter paddock where they can see and almost hear the greener pastures grow. We have been going up and down our dirt road getting things ready and the moment they see that they begin to bellow.
In October the grass is about done and it is time to bring everybody up into the winter paddock near their barn. They move from luscious green grass to second-cut hay which has some green stuff sticking out of it, but not much. At first they turn their noses up at it with a look that says, “Are you kidding?” Few things make a sheep farmer feel worse than a ewe sniffing her hay, half-hardheartedly pulling a few strands out, letting them drop on the ground, stomping on them so they are good and ruined and then walking away with a big of a no-thanks swagger.
They do get used to both the dry food as well as being contained in smaller quarters. When the snow is deep they create high-walled paths back and forth to the water trough and the growing manure pile to check out what the chickens might be doing on Mount Poosuveus. Once things begin to thaw and they have had their summer cuts they become more zealous and periodically race around and ram into each other. This is fun for a few minutes and then they stop dead, sniff the ewe they were just whacking and sheepishly go about their business, which is basically napping and nibbling.
In the fall we used our old manure spreader to prepare the pasture for spring. Paul had a hard time pretending this was work. The giant grin on his face as he made passes with the 1950’s spreader being pulled by our 1940’s Farmall tractor told the story. Now that it is spring, we will soon hire our friend with a bucket loader to come and help move manure from the winter paddock to the pile near the fields for “ripening.” Paul’s grin won’t be quite so big, as a pitchfork is never as good as a tractor. The result of the manure is grass that comes up Kelly green: so appetizing that even I would take a bite. Worth the “work.”
When sheep are put out on pasture for the first time after the long winter, we need to be careful that it is done slowly- too much rich grass too quickly can lead to bloat which can be deadly. I like to be cautious and take a full two weeks to move them fully onto grazing. On Monday, after watching the weather and seeing the grass swaying in the breeze, I decided it was go time. I had to sideline Muir, the trainee. What he lacks in finesse at this point, he makes up for in…enthusiasm. We figured better to have the sheep walk than race down the hill with Muir close at their heels. So Bronte and I walked over to the pen and, intuitively, it seemed, the sheep knew the time had come. They all quickly gathered at the gate, so tight that I had to move them to let Bronte come round them. The ewes, Mrs. Chubbers in the lead, dutifully stepped into sunshine and freedom. I turned around, surprised to find Sam at my heels. At thirteen, he might be alright with napping through some things but the first sheep outage is apparently not one of them. Bronte is now taking the lead but Sam walked right alongside her. Halfway down the hill the sheep began to gather steam and cantor. Free from their winter coats they leapt sideways several times showing us their excitement. I shut off the newly set-up fencing and opened the gate: it only took seconds for them to remember the drill and set about ruminating. Sam, Bronte, Paul and I all stood and watched, even the dogs nodding with appreciation.
Later this summer we will add a Romney ewe and her lamb to our flock and so it will begin anew.
The pandemic has made the last few winters feel long. While appreciating the safety in confinement of our homes, we have missed our friends and families, traveling, teaching in-person and are, frankly, tired of take out. We have all stood, faces pressed to the windows and waited for the green.
Watching the sheep leave the paddock that has confined them for months, seeing them literally kick up their heels made me laugh aloud. While resting my elbows on the gate, watching them fill their mouths with the first bites of fresh grass, I truly understood. Walking into our favorite restaurant for the first time again I kicked up my own hooves.
I feel you Mrs. C.
Melissa, your descriptive narratives awaken all my senses. I can smell Mt Manure, see the sheep kicking up their heels with new delight, hear the grass growing and waving in the wind, taste that Spring is in the air, and touch, along with you, the gate to the lush green pasture. Thank you for sharing your wonderful writings with us.
Thank you for taking this journey with me Carolyn.