Springtime on our farm was always such a pleasant time of year. The robins and all the songbirds were back and singing all day long. There was a vernal pool at the lower end of one of our pastures which was filled with the usual vernal pool creatures.
After spending all day working in the fields getting them ready to plant LV would spend the evenings checking and repairing all our fences before we would let the cows and heifers back out to graze. I always enjoyed going along to talk and watch while he made the repairs even though I had to carry Sailor most of the time. My favorite spot on the farm was a corner of giant trees at the lower part of our heifer pasture. There was an old dry creek bed running through the middle which was now covered in the most delightfully delicate grass and violets. From a distance it looked as if the entire floor of that patch of woods was purple from the millions of violets that bloomed so sweetly. I always gathered a small bouquet to take back to the house to enjoy. Violets were my favorite springtime flowers, so sweet and pretty, and somehow almost humble.
We always waited until the second week in May to finally let the cows and heifers out to pasture to allow the grass to grow a little more and the ground to become solid, otherwise the grass would have become trampled and a lot of the pasture turned into a muddy mess.
The cows always seemed to know when the day arrived that we were going to turn them out. Right after chores we had to put salve on their udders to keep them from becoming sunburned until they were used to being back outside. It wasn't long before they were all staring longingly out the open barn windows and mooing loudly. It was one of the most musical days of the year. As we walked along the rows of cows to unsnap the chains from the stanchions they turned and walked outside. It was always fun to watch those mature cows forget their age when they got outside the barn and started running and kicking up their heels at the joy of being able to be outside after being in the barn all winter. By evening they would be their normal selves again and only walk with their usual slow steady pace. But for a few hours they were feeling young.