Most of the month of May is turkey-hunting season in southern Ohio, and this shimmering, elegant tail was recently offered to me by neighbor, Kathy. Several weeks ago, she enticed a "tom" to present itself closely enough in the woods, to feed her family on Memorial Day. The colors of the tail are breathtaking in their muted, silken flow of browns, reds, and yellows, which most of us don't witness up-close. Some of nature's greatest artistry seems to be expressed in the plumage of birds.

In anticipation of the most exciting two minutes in sports, those with blood of Kentucky in their veins faithfully prepare, so their counterparts may Run for the Roses. The stories, pageantry, excitement, and equine beauty of the Kentucky Derby is unsurpassed, always making for memorable impression. Susan rises to the occasion each year, to celebrate her home state and its many glories. The highlight of the Kentucky Derby for her is singing My Old Kentucky Home, with the race itself placing second, and the ensuing meal for "show".

With the advent of agriculture in the Middle East around 10,000 BC, surplus commodities enabled producers to begin bartering for goods to improve quality of life. Marketplaces began to be formed to facilitate such transaction, and amazingly they continue to this day, throughout the world, in nearly identical form. Vendors arrive at dawn with surplus goods in hand, set up shop with tent and table, and spend the day exchanging currencies, hopefully for the better by dusk.

Intense white can represent hopes of spring. The Dogwood is uplifting and peaceful, quieting the great potency inherent in this time of year. It serves as a mediator of sorts, offering solace through pristine boughs that calm disruptive currents.

Nature is obviously coming awake, as grasses are growing, trees are turning green, birds are migrating, and wildflowers are emerging. Susan and I took a walk in the woods last weekend to look for wildflowers. We are typically too busy for leisurely strolls, but the weekend off provided welcome opportunity.

As is too often the case in the rush of a day's work, we do not see the obvious. These clouds were a magical spectacle, performed in the great hidden space above, last weekend, lasting only minutes. Fortunately, we were uncharacteristically quiet enough to witness the magic. What a fabulous few moments those clouds offered, as they passed by, so rich with presence, color, majesty, and intention. They were nature's marching band, strutting down the boulevard of the great blue beyond. We felt lucky to have looked up in time.

Last Saturday night, we enjoyed the opening weekend of this new restaurant in O'Bryonville. It primarily features fish, but also several dishes of our grassfed lamb (creating further connection between Hyde Park and Pike County). The evening was an inspiring success, by our standards.

Being a grass-farmer, or grazier, is a little bit like marriage - if you knew everything about it beforehand, you'd never go into it! Fortunately, ignorance is bliss, or we'd never rise from bed in the morning.

Why does one do this? Isn't it awfully brash to promote oneself in excess like this? What would one's grandmother say about being so demonstrative in public? Is it really necessary? And how important is a name, anyway? These questions arise, as the signature event of the week was installing this large banner around our large trailer.

Wood frogs range from Georgia to Alaska, seeking high-quality environments in which to breed. This picture was taken in our wetlands several weeks ago. Hundreds of thousands of eggs have been laid, and a great, big, old predator - "Bucko", stands lurking in shallows, on the hunt for adult frogs.

As they have all winter. They are bunched together to ration grass, which stopped growing last August. We also unroll several bales of hay for them, so quality of feed comes from stockpiled pasture and quantity from hay. The winter has been mild, of course, which helps, and cows are doing amazingly well.

Four inches of rain fell upon saturated soils, culverts bulged, creeks rose, and fields flooded... We were reminded once again of nature's ready ability to transform the environment. It is humbling to wake up to such a transformation, especially when one has 500 animals to provide for. One feels small and powerless.