Farmyard Mud

The yard is full of Mississippi water puddles.  It rains in the South as much as it snows in the North.  I miss the fluffy snow and somehow find it hard to enjoy the thousands of water droplets clinging to the window screens.  Only our Mallard ducks seem to enjoy this weather. They are happily waddling from one mini lake in the yard to another, dipping their bills deep, flagging their tails and moving on.  One mother duck is missing from the group.   We're suspecting she is sitting on a nest of eggs, perhaps hidden in the tall grass of the lagoon bank.  Our flock of chickens are busy pecking bugs from wet soil; they don't seem to mind the rain either.  Of course there are warm soft hay-bales where they can retreat or a cozy hen-house to go home to.  The horses have their stalls, the goats an inside pen.  The milk cows have shelter and the steers find safety and lodging under the free-stall barn.   The cats content themselves by staying in the barn, venturing out only when it stops raining.  Their master and I watch over the barnyard while sipping hot tea in our kitchen.  We all love our home.