Marking Time

By Libra


The ewe nudged her second lamb urging it to get up as it sort shelter under the hedge from the biting north wind and sudden onset of sub-zero temperatures in Scotland even though its mid April.

She knew its only hope of survival lay in persuading it to get on its feet, to move and ultimately to feed.

There was something primeval in this little drama I witnessed on my morning walk.

Shakily the lamb got up.

Each morning the farmer drives around this field collecting little corpses .

Would this one survive?

On my return I saw it had sunk again to the ground its head turned away from the wind heralding yet another ferocious storm coming in from Scottish Highlands.

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