And I slept straight thru it! Who or Whatever trashed the feed room last night sure was riled up!
This is the sight that greeted me this morning when I got out to feed...
Feed room door cracked wide, Pitchfork wedged tight, and Hay bales tossed like toys. Not even Emma-cat was sure about going in! I have to admit I wasn't too sure myself . . . so, I grabbed the pitchfork from under the door and crept in over the hay.
Breath held, fork at the ready, I cautiously looked around.
Nothing moved.
I thought that was a good sign. (ok, honest truth, knees wobbled with relief.) I have no idea what I would have done if there had been a badger or a bear in there! Because, in hind sight, it must have been something big to heave the hay bales up in front of the door. Each bale weighs about 40-45 lbs. Not an easy feat...unless you're a badger or a bear.
But something sure had a field day with the feed bin...
As a matter of fact, those look suspiciously like grubby, little raccoon paw prints all over the bin! Ah-ha! I do believe that Katie's friendly little coon came back for a visit. And got mighty ticked off that the food was all locked up for the night!
And were the goats any help?
Hello?! Not a peep from any of you?
You're just gonna let that masked raider mess with your feed and hay?
Kinda Mom.... He was scary and throwing hay bales around and all....
The Brute! Happy Goat Herder to the rescue:
First we clean up the feed room and then...
One Live Animal Trap coming right up!
Of course, you never know how well that's going to work. We've had mishaps in the past. Ok, then, if you must know, I am not the best trapper in the west... But before I could even sneeze this time, thank you very much, Mr P came strutting over to check it out...
Seriously? Like we don't feed you enough?
Seriously!
There is no telling what will greet me in the morning. Is that the truth or what?
And just when I was grumbling about all the extra work, and just who has the time for setting up traps, and trying to find a bandage for my pinched finger (not the best trap setter-upper either), I walked past the big Photinia bush at the corner of the shed and stopped dead in my tracks:
He was as big as my hand.
Wings spread out to catch the warmth of sunshine.
My breath stilled into soundless wonder.
What Beauty so early this March spring,
To arrive on the heels of the Brute's temper tantrum in the feed room.
My grumbling evaporated in the unexpected awe of the moment,
my heart slowing to the beat of his wings in symmetry,
gently gifting me with His artless Grace.
And that is the truth. We each will meet the Brute and the Beauty as we go about our days. Sometimes the Brute will make our lives difficult, miserable, and filled with fear. It is his nature. But never forget, Beauty is there just waiting. Waiting for the moment we turn to see. To be awed by the gift. To still our hearts before His. To be filled with a peace that routs fear.
No matter how the Brute has sought to ruin us, there will always be eternal power in the Beauty that ever seeks us out, offering His Love gift to each one of us.
Leaning into Beauty, Always,
Jane
