Wee Three Sheep

26 Jan

For the past few days, the landscape has been transformed by the freezing fog into a cut-glass model of itself. Before I moved to Scotland, I had never imagined that frost could be so pervasive, or so beautiful. It is difficult now not to think of the fog as a conscious entity, a sculptor who hides his works-in-progress beneath a curtain, then sweeps it away for the big reveal.

Then today, the sun flowed like honey over everything, and the frost was gone. Snowdrops have already begun thrusting their shoots above the ground, and I think they will flower in a day or two. I took a stroll up the lane to the burn that runs through the manor’s grounds, and followed the wooded footpath along its bank. Sometimes I see wild ducks paddling about in the burn, but not this time.

This time, I saw sheep on the manor’s back lawn. There were three of them, looking fatter, whiter and fluffier than the flocks living in the fields around our cottage. They were also friendlier, and when I greeted them, they came trotting over to see if I had anything for them. I didn’t, of course. I am a terrible neighbour, who always visits empty-handed.

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11 Responses to “Wee Three Sheep”

  1. DewiMorgan January 26, 2011 at 5:29 pm #

    Shopping list:
    – Sugar cubes.
    – Doggy treats.
    – Bigger pockets.

    • Snailquake January 26, 2011 at 5:40 pm #

      But if I bring treats, how will I know if they like me for *me*, and not for my sugar-cube-shaped assets?

      • Jigme Datse Rasku January 26, 2011 at 6:11 pm #

        Does it make a difference?

        • Snailquake January 26, 2011 at 6:27 pm #

          Absolutely! I like to be liked for me.

      • Dewi Morgan January 26, 2011 at 9:12 pm #

        If your assets’ that shape, you may have more serious problems.

  2. Jigme Datse Rasku January 26, 2011 at 6:09 pm #

    I think that the grass from the other side of the fence is often quite a welcome thing to offer, and you don’t have to bring anything. Just your hands. A handful of grass often goes a long way. Good luck in the visiting the neighbours.

    • Snailquake January 26, 2011 at 6:26 pm #

      There was none on my footpath, but in future, I’ll endeavour to remember to bring a bag of grass with me when I visit neighbours. It’s only polite, after all.

  3. Jigme Datse Rasku January 26, 2011 at 6:10 pm #

    if I was a sheep, I’d also be happy for a pat if you had that. So don’t be too hard on yourself.

  4. Iveta January 26, 2011 at 8:44 pm #

    Such a lovely place. :) It would be nice to live there. I am jeallous!

    • Snailquake January 26, 2011 at 9:46 pm #

      So come live here! I need more human neighbours.

  5. Hallysann May 28, 2011 at 10:05 am #

    “It is difficult now not to think of the fog as a conscious entity, a sculptor who hides his works-in-progress beneath a curtain, then sweeps it away for the big reveal.”
    I love your description of the fog …
    I’ll try to remember it for next time the fog closes in here … and smile.
    Thanks.

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