L'shana Tova to all those who keep time thusly; happy equinox to those who mark it. (It doesn't quite rise to the level of Wednesday Word, but I recently heard the fall equinox described as the time when the Earth is three quarters of the way around the sun.)
Either way you mark it, fall is here. It arrived with a good solid rainstorm, bringing about an inch of rain. As I made the rounds yesterday morning, I would open the gate to each herd's enclosure. A few noses would poke out, and then retreat back into the shelter. Rams, bucks, ewes, does, all spent the day under cover, dryly watching me trudge around. The fields are still brown and will be for a long time, but I could sort of hear the underlayer of moss that fills our fields sighing with relief. It's been a long, exceedingly hot summer. It's time for fall.
I mentioned earlier this week how, in the short term, time gets vague for me. I got reminded again how short term planning is futile here. I had planned, yesterday, to do a bunch of drywall work on the addition to the house. However, while I was in town, I received a call from brother H. that the roof had blown off of the rams' shelter ("It just flew off, like a kite!"). Also, I noticed that the roof on the bucks' shelter (a rather old tarp) was on the verge of failure, and that action needed to be taken. Plans? Hah.