Lambs in the snow

I went out running this morning, tiny snowflakes spinning in the chill dry air, barely forming a film on the surface of the trail. A hungry flock of black crows pecked at the frozen dung spray on a field, and opposite them a flock of sheep grazed silently. There's still some greenery peeping through the hard mud, and they seemed happy enough - but, daughter of a North Canterbury sheep farmer that I am, I can't understand the Swiss way with sheep. Cows are tucked warmly away in barns, but the poor sheep, freshly shorn for the winter, are left outside in temperatures well below zero - and they're still lambing! I spotted a tiny lamb, bits of its birth membrane still frozen on the little white body, probably no more than a day old and looking thoroughly bewildered by its rude entrance into this chilly world.

I always used to suffer for the ewes and their lambs back home on the farm, as the lambing season began in early September when the North Canterbury frosts were still pretty severe. But my father brought the struggling ones into the warmth of the barn, and soon the onset of summer had them frolicking outside again. These poor little Swiss lambs still have the worst of the winter to face. Will they get to go into the barn eventually with their pampered milk-giving companions? I'll have to continue running up there in the hills to find out...