Not Tempered to the Shorn Lamb

Cycling down for the paper today in a viciously cold wind, I was trying to work out exactly what direction it was coming from – and whether I’d be cycling back right into the teeth of it on my way home. The wind tends to swirl around a bit through the village and sometimes hides behind hedges before pouncing unexpectedly. Plus if it’s a cross wind it can feel like a head wind in both directions – and if it’s a tail wind, you never notice until it’s too late

Coming back in what turned out to be a biting north-easterly cross wind – but of course – I realised that what I should have done was looked at the fields – because all the ewes were lying down and all the lambs were huddled on their mothers’ leeward sides. They’re still little enough not to have much fat to insulate them, or much wool either, and need what shelter they can get – although it has at least stopped snowing…

Spring. Did I blink and miss it?

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