There is something really magical about spring in this part of Georgia. The horse ranches have been driven out of the state by developers, but there are still the sheep.
To get to the store from where I live I have to drive by a sheep farm, and this is the time of birthing.
The SWMBO may send me out for a pint of 1/2 and 1/2 and that might take an hour or so. Its hard to dive past the field and not stop to watch 15 or so little white dots pop up over the tall grass and disappear again to emerge at some other spot.
This morning, close to the fence where I had parked in a spot sheltered from the noise of the road by a fallen sycamore tree; a ewe was birthing twins.
The first of the lambs, a glistening white when cleaned, was stretching and kicking in just a moment and soon on his/her feet and loving the cool spring morning.
The second lamb emerged and before the ewe could clean him/her off the older twin was butting him/her.
I was close enough that I could see the face of the newest child, the expression, “Really, now, I have had a hell of a morning already.”