The sky was growing red when I went to dump the compost at the far end of the garden.


In the near distance I could hear the sheep bleating and a few black birds singing their songs. As the sky grew a deeper scarlet I grabbed my camera and set out for the pasture.

I stung my ankles on nettles as I positioned myself as close to the fence line as I could. The newly shorn sheep looked for a moment before continuing their grazing. The sound of the breeze through the leaves that also rattled the metal barn door lifted my dress slightly and cooled my thighs. I returned home happy.