Mud and Manure

I have very mixed feelings about Spring. I think every farmer does. These are some of the reasons why.

The intense grip of late winter starts to give way to Pre Spring.

The pristine blanket of snow, that constantly renews itself with new, pristine white blankets of sparkly cleanliness, lulls you into forgetting the vile nastiness below.

The dripping and bubbling sound of water is the music of melting. Of water beginning to run and filling the creeks, ponds, lakes and puddles. The white giving way to an earth that has been hibernating since November. This is also the gauntlet of gurgling muck. The frozen morning, releases to ground that is saturated with manure and urine. I am talking about intense layers of manure, soiled hay, bedding mud and slush. The bloom of hay twine that has grown over the winter, coiling under the ice and multiplying. There is hay scattered everywhere and even the odd lost glove or knife. The  fetid water running over ruts of mud and ice the color of strong tea.

The mud puddles, with a dusting of hair that is sloughing off the animals in patches. There are broken fence posts that have been held up by the ice, that suddenly list to the side. There are broken rails, the gates drooping like they are exhausted. The pinto patches of dingy snow in the dull, ragged hay fields waiting to be harrowed and seeded.The hay barn is looking forlorn and the woodshed is emptying out. The sheer volume of work that will ensue.... overwhelming does not begin to encompass the feeling.

Everything is brown, tired and dirty and more so after months and months of bright white.

Then there are animals who need to be dusted for ticks and lice, De-worming, vaccines and horse blankets to be laundered. The hair coats once warm and downy start to become dirty and loose. You cannot touch anything without coming away covered in mud, hair and manure. The only way to describe the smell is pungent.

This is what I call pre spring, and I hate it.

As Pre- Spring starts to release its sad grip, and the brown begins to give way to green, 

the burdens start to lift.

The tangled nests of twine have gone to the dump, along with the heap of feed bags and dog poop from everywhere. The manure and soiled hay, fought back to a majestic, heaping, hillock out back. Fences pulled tight like guitar strings, posts replaced standing guard, gates rehung straight and strong. The creeks of tea, giving way to bubbling, pristine water.

The animal hair has been turned into birds nests. The fields are neatly harrowed and have an emerald sheen, next to a sparkling lake. 

There are tickling spring breezes ruffling the new grass, carrying the sweet smells of earth and growth. The garlic, crocus's and daffodils are poking their way through the mulch. 

 Strawberries and rhubarb,

unfurling vibrantly from their slumber. The pregnant goats and cow heavy in their pregnancy, soft eyed and round. Preparing the kidding and calving areas, with the excitement of impending birth.

New saucy little piglets arrive and begin to thrive. The horses are starting to frolic, manes and tails flying, hooves cutting into the soft ground. Fit and shiny, running free of the ice and snow.

Everywhere there is newness, anticipation and light.

The heavy cloak of winter thrown down and the soggy boots of pre spring kicked off as the entire farm prepares for the next stage of the year.