New Life and a Glimpse at your own mortality.

While one of the downsides of keeping livestock is dealing with all the shit, one of the joys of living close to the natural world is watching the way it reinvigorates itself especially in Spring. The year the early fine weather prompted a dramatic demonstration of this though sadly it all happened in a rush, barely had the daffodils got going, before the  hot weather speeded up the succession of different flowers. Rhoddies came and went, the blackthorn was all over in a week and a big gale did for all the apple blossom.



And new life was born too with Daisy calving as the blackthorns peaked.   On the croft we get a bit blase about life death. Chickens are killed for the pot, larger stock go, as we like to put it, on their day trip to Mull - returning as packed butchered joints while the odd bird falls victim to old age or something nasty in the night.

Daffodil, newly born

Up on her own four feet

  

Daisy and Daffodil in the blackthorn

But amid all this dramatic display of natures bounty I was confronted with my own mortality. Once every day or two for a week or two while climbing our hill or chasing either livestock or children, I experienced quite severe 'indigestion'. A brief sit down sometimes accompanied by a cup of peppermint tea caused my indigestion to quickly pass and so I carried on. Though as easily self deluded as the next man, I am not completely stupid (and, until recently the family watching of Casualty was compulsory)  so, after a particularly 'indigestion' packed day, off we went to A&E at our local hospital. Its amazing how galvanising the three words 'crushing chest pain' are in an A&E department and a week later  here I am back home with my left carotid artery no longer blocked courtesy of modern skills and technology and a cunningly placed stent.  


In my absence the  growth of salads, tomatoes etc in the poly tunnel has been disappointing, just not enough sunshine, but weeds are flourishing and noisy nestlings and fledglings are demanding food from harried parents everywhere. Reassuringly, life goes on.