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Lambs during Evening Playtime ❖ 1066 Country Walk ❖ Wickham Rock Lane ❖ Winchelsea ❖ East Sussex ❖ England ❖ 25 April 2023 ❖ 7:23pm ❖ 90 Minutes before Sunset Nothing says Springtime in England like frolicking lambs! I have the privilege of being surrounded by sheep. Fascinating beings. Like woolen clouds sprinkled across the deep green rolling fields. Lambing Season arrives around Easter. The tranquil landscape develops an extra dimension of amazing. Shortly after entering the outside world, they stand. Wobbly. Unsure. Hungry. If all goes well, they begin feeding via mum. The Milk of Life. Sometimes the mum cannot or will not provide such vital nourishment. These tiny souls must then be paired with another mum, or hand-reared. Milk in a bottle. Twice a day. Hand-rearing creates a bond. Shepherd and lamb. The lambs remember. Scent, faces, sounds. Even come when called. Usually. As they age, the memories remain. The two youngsters in the middle of this scene descend from Beans the Ewe. Beans was hand-reared in the spring of 2017. I have a photo of her in my arms. A while back, I was approached by a ewe with her two lambs. Highly unusual. Ewes tend to be quite protective of their young. This ewe, flanked by her little ones, came up for a sniff, a scratch on the head, a check if I had anything edible. I was flabbergasted. Upon further inquiry, I discovered it was Beans. Since that time, Beans' lambs seem to inherently recognize me. I realized this when being carefully watched - with curiosity, not fear - by Mini-Beans. Genetics? Epigenetics? Occult Sheep Wisdom? I prefer the latter. The magic of each of these encounters sparks awe. Joy. A sense of connecting.