Spring is apparent in every corner of our farm. The light is more direct, and the air is warmer as the sun moves north. The woods are full of woodpeckers calling and drumming, fashioning new homes, and choosing mates. On our morning walks, the snow is crusted from daytime melting, and exposed patches of grass and soil grow larger every day. The days are longer, the buds are swelling, and one sunny afternoon I caught the scent of fresh earth on a soft breeze. The ewes are rounder now, in their last trimester, and Rose is not so quick to kick up her heels. Lambing should begin March 20th.

Sometimes the realities of farming can be difficult to negotiate. This month I had to buy more hay, which prompted a decision I'd been avoiding. After I paid for the hay, I called the livestock buyer and told him we had two lambs ready for market. I sheared them before he picked them up, and it broke my heart to watch my naked and shivering firstborns leave our farm. Even though it's another step toward  financial stability, I felt we did something that day that cannot now be undone.