puffball cotton swab clouds hung low looking like I could reach out ***** them with a fingernail and send a deluge crashing through the valley below – littered across the misty green valley large black-bodied cows exhaling steaming tendrils one long bawl travels the length of the meadow her rumbling song inspires a smallish brown thrush – fir trees set along side creating a border of mystery from in-between a slight and leaning maple sapling and a large dominant fir grandfather a tan doe steps out tentatively behind her two speckled fawns their long ears turning and twisting with each pasture sound they step into the clearing slowly and begin to pull the dew drops off the grass blades…. morning ritual of the farmland –