According to personal experience, the internet, the faculties of reason and good judgment, and nearly every facet of observable and measurable reality, fall is the best season—pumpkin spice notwithstanding. Sure, I enjoy the green shoots of spring, the long days of summer, and the fact that pushing snow around with a big tractor is considered part of my “work,” but let’s not kid ourselves: We should all want 68-degree days and colorful leaves forever. And I think the chimps will back me up on this, judging by how much time they’ve been spending outside lately (the cows, on the other hand, may place a bit more emphasis on those green shoots).
Speaking of cows, the girls came down the mountain yesterday so that they can sleep in their barn once again. The facilitated ankylosis treatments that Meredith underwent last winter and spring have proven to be worth it, as her crippling hobble has been downgraded to a slight limp and she’s been deemed fit for traversing steep slopes once again, when conditions allow. It’s amazing to see her run after so long, though I have to admit I was holding my breath and praying that those little ankles would continue to support our 3/4-ton girl downhill at stride.
I spent a wonderful 30 minutes this afternoon just watching Honey B explore the Bray. I’m trying to get her to follow me to the very top of the hill, but we’re not quite there yet. She seems to prefer going outside without her group mates and I hope that will change soon. There’s just so much for her to enjoy out there. And this is the best time of year to enjoy it.
