For some time now, I had watched the old ewe sheep wander closer to the border of the sheepfold, casting her brown eyes on the pasture beyond our highland enclosure. The years had come and gone, and al the lambs she had raised were grown, a long time now. For the most part, she grazed alone. Now and then, I would bring her in from the farthest part of the field, noting the thinning wool, the slight limp, and the curve along her back.
She never complained, though, and caused me little trouble. Winters were hard on her and even in the warm shelter, she cast her eyes beyond… waiting…watching.
One day, she sought out her grown lamb and nestled close, then simply lay down on the grass and was gone. The other sheep gathered around, curious as sheep are. I found her still and quiet. I knew she was gone. Her eyes were still open, fixed on the pasture beyond the enclosure, seeing what we could not see.
I will miss the old ewe. The flock will miss her presence in the morning, when she came quietly from her resting place to nuzzle the young lambs…softly, gentle in her way. The shepherd came and spoke, then we laid her away beneath the earth, near the beyond place where she longed to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment