Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. ~Rainer Maria Rilke
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
It was 8:30 a.m. on a beautiful spring morning. Farmlady went out to feed the goats and open the gate to the pasture. "Wait! What's going on here?", she cried. The gate was standing open and the lock was still in place. The goats were no where to be seen. "Oh no," thought Farmlady, "This can't be. I know I closed and locked the gate last night. "
She walked around to the front pasture and there they were....
"How did you do that?" She shouted. They were enjoying their morning grass and looking oddly innocent.
"Brownie, I see you hiding from me. How did you goats get through the gate? The latch is bent. The lock is still attach . How did you get out?"
They walked over to the fence. Brownie was about to say something and then Farmlady heard Murphy say, "Brownie, be careful what you say. Don't ruin everything."
Brownie started to say something, gave Farmlady a small smile and stopped.
"How did you do it Brownie?" asked Farmlady and then she waited for a reply.
Brownie leaned against Murph' and closed his eyes. She thought she heard Murphy say, in a low voice.. "It's OK Brownie. Be strong."
"Your not going to tell me are you?" Farmlady shook her head. It was a conspiracy of goats.
Farmlady backed away and realized that this was another goat secret that she would never figure out. Murphy, she surmised, was becoming the new leader of the pack and because he was the smartest goat and had magical powers , there would always be things happening around the farm that she would not have answers for. The goat boys were learning that strength in numbers was important and Brownie was learning to heed the other goat's advice.. at least Murphy's advice. She thought to herself that this was not an altogether bad thing.
The goats were use to being let out earlier. They waited until they got tired of waiting and then made a decision that the power should be in their hands (hooves). The will to be the masters of their own world won the pasture. Nietzsche would have been proud.
Farmlady thought that she would open the gate earlier tomorrow morning. The Prospector was away for a few days and she was use to doing inside things first. Maybe she had waited too late in the morning to let them out.
She sighed deeply... tomorrow would be different.