Today the cow we are trying to help (set her back onto her feet), the one's whose labor went tragically wrong for her calf took too long and was far too sizeful, wasn't doing so well, so G sent me to occupy myself elsewhere and I veered into the forest, tugging my camera along. The forest is still asleep, hardly a shootling or sapling in sight, but it was beautiful. Peaceful. Momentarily I thought I saw an animal much too large for realism, as the largest animals around would be bears and those are rare and you'd have to be lucky to find one if you were looking for it for a long time. Boars and occasional elk, sure, and plenty roe deer and rabbits, but nothing the size of what I paused to try and identify. I didn't get any closer, in case it turned out to be just a stack of rotting logs and shadow. I enjoy imagining things large enough to fuck you and eat your horse lurking in the deep dark woods. 

Regarding the poor heifer, I have a friend who's a vet and she told me her mentor's philosophy regarding animals (he was talking about a cat in this instance: If all of her bones are in the same room, chances are she's going to make it.) We've managed to move the poor thing outdoors and again, we're back to waiting. My least of all favorite parts. Back tomorrow morning to see if again we can do anything at all that time and nature couldn't. 

G is starting to smell like bee's vax, as the work in the hive is getting closer to the moving date. Since we've started sleeping naked once it got warm enough, that is a good thing to smell like indeed.