All is dull and dreary here, this rainy winter’s day. Rain clouds hang over the valley, and the Green Mountains are completely obscured in heavy veils every shade of gloomy grey. The flock refuse to give up their cozy barn, and even Roscoe’s crowing seems half hearted.
At this moment, and against all better judgement, I would give anything for a cold, snowy day; for the muddy ground to harden up and disappear under a cover of sparkling white snow.
Instead, I pull on my rain boots and squelch out to cover ever increasing patches of mud with golden straw, in the hopes of protecting what remains of pathways to the pole barn from my flock’s hooves…and bring some welcome color to this cheerless day.