From my kitchen window I watch the waves from the ocean uncurling. The sea today reflects a sliver grey sky, telling me the rain is coming. As I wait for the kettle to boil my eyes wander along our green parcelled fields. I love the emerald green against the backdrop of the old stone walls. Scattered around the fields are our blackface sheep. The husband has a great love for the blackface. Their lambs are a mixture of the border Leicester ram and Mayo blackface ewe. Together they produce a very prolific lamb with the hardness and the good mothering skills of the blackface. Whenever I look out at the sheep they are clipping away at the grass unfazed by heavy rain and strong winds.

As I take the first mouthful of coffee a symphony of chirping descends onto the steps of the kitchen doors. I watch the flock of tiny sparrows nimble on the dampened bread that I had thrown out earlier. For the last few months I have been gathering crumbs from my table, worktop and floor, placing it in a small bowl. Birds who are unlike us humans consume what they need and they never overdo it. I love to watch them eat and hop along the footsteps, keeping in mind I’ll see more if I keep my distance. The slightest sound or noise and they’ll swoop up into the air, eventually settling high up perched in a singular row on the roof gutter of our barn.

With breakfast eaten and the rain tied up in the clouds we’ll do a quick walk around the fields keeping an eye on the grass and of course making sure the sheep are all accounted for. The dogs are barking begging to be let out but they’ll have to wait. I never get tired of the sound of waves clamouring towards the shore. The strong winds wake me up while a large dollop of rain falls on my face. I better get myself moving.

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