Some people scoffed my hummingbird but it was a real hummingbird and if you don't believe in hummingbirds I want to tell you something else. Yesterday it was 64 degrees here and it was one of the ten most beautiful days of the year.
And if you don't believe in beautiful days I want to tell you something else. Yesterday when the cosseted barn dwellers were turned out in their pasture Brandy the old bag took a look around and shook her head and sniffed the air and then gave a little nod of assent, agreeing with herself, and then she took off running down the hill and when she got up to speed she turned sideways and went leap-dancing the rest of the way. Leap-dancing to such an extent that there was no choice but for everyone to follow her and there was a massive leap dance possibly celebrating the fact that it is Leap Year but certainly celebrating something else as well.
Brandy is thirteen years old and as I mentioned she is an old bag and she did not get to be as old as she is by wasting energy and she only does her leap-dancing in one season of the year. And it is not the summer, the fall, or the winter.
And if you can't figure out what season it is you could read the title again for a clue. But don't say it out loud, because that is a jinx.
4 comments :
No leap-dancing here. The goat boys are too fat having stood around eating hay all winter. But, they have done a bit of head butting, which counts. Happy bling. Which rhymes, too.
Well, Hmpfff. Since it only got to 52.3 degrees here yesterday, I will require proof of the hummingbird. Well, not proof that it was a hummingbird, but proof that it wasn't an Anna's hummingbird. Plus leapage in a leap year might just mean it is a required action to finish the month of February so there will actually be 29 days and it won't just automatically cut off at 28. Dearest Millie Belles, I am skeptical. It could also be another ruse brought about by the Bigolettos in their quest for power.
Oh, Marigold, just let go and king! swing! sling! ping! ring! zing! string! thing! wing!
Well it might be true...all the way on the other side of the country there was some happy dancing, too. And somehow, on the border of Massachusetts and Vermont there was green grass for the goats to nibble on. We'll just keep it very, very quiet.
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