The poem begins “Hope springs eternal in the human breast”- but really, it’s springtime where hope truly dwells.

· A pregnant ewe heading to the barn, looking for a quiet place to lamb.

· A handful of seeds scattered in the wind - searching for fertile ground.

· A honeybee coming out of our empty hive, perhaps scouting it out before a swarm.

· A broody hen sitting on her nest, threatening me whenever I dare walk by.

· The serenading of lovesick frogs, desperately looking for a mate.

· A clutch of eggs in the robin’s nest by our door.

· Our boisterous bottle-fed lamb - on the verge of being weaned.

· A pair of bluebirds, and their hatchlings getting ready to fledge.

· The return of the swifts nesting in our chimney yet again.

· Our sow looking more and more pregnant every day.

Everything is in a holding pattern, waiting perhaps for a gentle rain, the warmth of the sun or just the right time, to bring it all to fruition. Springtime, indeed, holds eternal hope within a farmer’s soul! And where there is hope, there’s comfort and joy.

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