My fingers trace the nobby bones down Pegasus Sue’s back. Her vertebrae contrast with the fullness of her pregnancy. She’s a goat near term, carrying twins for five months. She leans her head into my hands and I cradle her jaw, massage her skull, and gently rub her back.
It’s a slow descent to winter on the Keweenaw Peninsula. We’ve had a few gales, some hard frosts, and even made national news with our shovable snow. But it has already melted and the lilac bushes cling to their green leaves as the maples shed their colorful canopies.
The sunny days we’ve had lift everyone’s spirits. We stay outside, hold bonfires, and prep the farm for winter. Well, the farmers do. I might cook a meal, or watch an episode of Bake with my daughter. It’s her birthday weekend and she wants to focus on her flower beds. She dug, separated, and replanted bulbs of irises, lilies, and hyacinths. I mostly hung out with goats, picking apples, and comforting an uncomfortable Pegasus Sue.
Molly, the younger doe of three at Ghost House Farm, already birthed her twins. Allison and Drew went out to the ghost-house-cum-goat-barn on Saturday and noticed a wee goat. I soon arrived — because my goat senses were tingling — to see twins still wet from birth.
Immediately, I swooned. I fell into full cuteness overload as this video demonstrates.
Fall seems an odd time to welcome babies to a farm in the Northern Hemisphere. Chip, the male goat, is also in rut which seems like even worse timing. The pregnant does want nothing to do with him. He hangs out with the herd of round-bellied kids from last fall in a separate pen and side of the Ghost House. The pigs are near time to go to market and the goats are birthing. Cycle of life and death plays out on a farm from day to day.
I wonder at the bones in this land. How many generations of humans and kin have fed the soil on this rocky spine? As Halloween approaches, I think of the different ways people around the world honor and bless bones. They say the veil thins at Samhain; a time for talking to the Ancestors.
As I comfort Peggy’s bones, I listen to messages on the wind. What stories lurk in the coming dark of the year? At least I know the light is somewhere. Thank you Australia and New Zealand for containing the light as the northern region of the world confronts the shadows. Day or night, North or South, the bones have a chance to speak their tales.
October 24, 2022, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about bones. It can be any genre or tone. Is it spooky, irreverant, poignant? Go where the prompt leads!
- Submit by October 29, 2022. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form. The Collection publishes on the Wednesday following the next Challenge. Rules & Guidelines.
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Baby goatses!! Squeeeee!
What a treat to see & hear. Thanks!
I’m still in squeee-mode, Liz! I need my baby goatses fix. So darn tootin’ cute.
Those little kids are definitely cute, and so able so soon after birth. Our spring/summer has been slow to come too. The seasons are reluctant, north and south, this year. What do they know? I think our summer starts on Wednesay with a 35 degree day (that’s 95 to you). We haven’t passed the low/mid twenties yet. Summer is not officially here for another month. It supposed to be wet. So far it is. Flooding in many places and hailstorms to boot.
Oh, Norah, Australia has been beset with so much flooding. I think there is uncertainty for both our hemispheres. I hope the goats bring a smile to you. <3
Too much uncertainty everywhere, Charli. And we thought covid was bad. Smiles are accepted with gratitude.
Those goatses! I’m enthralled with how alert these babies are. Thanks so much for sharing the beauty of life with us, Charli. 🧡
They are so curious and intelligent and playful and I could go on and on, lol. Thank you for sharing in the beauty, Colleen.
Thank you, Charli. I’m always shocked at the beauty of nature. 💜
That’s a good way to put it, Colleen. I never tire of sunsets nor have I ever experienced the same sunset twice. I love that the beauty of nature can still shock us. <3
Yes… that makes it all so magical. It’s never the same, but always awe-inducing. ❤️
“Dunno Pal. It’s anuther tough one.”
“Naw. There’s bones all over this ranch. Jist gotta dig a little.”
“There’s bones? Yer spookin me Pal.”
“Story bones, Kid. Beginnins, middles, ends.”
“What? Who? How? Why?”
“Well, sure, ya wanna have some characters an some conflict an resolution. You kin work thet out Kid. Jist make it up as ya go along.”
“A story bout bones.”
“Yep. Go where the prompt leads.”
“Yer spookin me agin. Where the prompt leads? That’s limitless!”
“Imagine thet’s so Kid. But there are some limits.”
“Yeah?”
“Gotta flesh out yer story in jist 99 words.”
Ha, ha! Yes. Bones are everywhere. But Pal’s got the nose for sniffing out the story bones.
Will Kid dig up a story? Stay tuned!
Charli,
I think it is rather nice for you to be part of Farm Life. The little goats are adorable! It is my birthday week too! I’m enjoying the fall colors 🙂 I went in a different direction with the prompt… perhaps following in the footsteps of someone at Hogworts on holiday?
Cheers 🎃