The end of Winter

It feels like it has been a long hard Winter. My best friend, Emma (owner of the Alfie Purl flock) very sadly died in November and I’ve been truly knocked for six by her death. Taking on the lions share of the Shepherding for her flock has been, and continues to be, both an honour and a priviledge.

But I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge that it has had an impact on how I spend my time. More sheep to take the lead with, short dark cold days, a few health niggles of my own, actively grieving – all of these factors have dented my creative drive a little over recent months.

Even in the best of years shepherding in Winter can be tough. The limited daylight, lack of grass, not to mention the cold, the rain, the biting wind and potentially even the snow generally make for a less than idyllic time. I suppose it’s only saving grace is lack of flystrike…

Most days seem to involve getting togged up like a polar explorer to go and check your bleats, smashing thick ice on water buckets, lugging heavy barrowloads of hay through ankle deep mud and getting leaned on by very large, very soggy sheep eager for a tickle. Everything seems to take twice as long in Winter and it’s physically much harder to tend your flock.

And yet I think it’s a really rewarding time of year. The sense of satisfaction when you know your sheep are safe, well fed and watered is immense. My sheep are insanely friendly at any time of the year, but during the Winter they really come into their own. It’s almost like they know you are putting yourself out for them and really appreciate your efforts. Even the more self-contained members of the flock are keen to huddle round and harrass your pockets for a carrot. And that makes it all worthwhile.