This past Sunday The Buckaroo and I got what I am going to call our “date day”. We left all the side kicks at home and went to check the fence on our newly reacquired horse pasture. We had leased the pasture a few years ago and then someone out bid us and started running cows on it. Well to say the pasture was eaten down to the dirt is an understatement.We needed to check the perimeter fence and the spring box,  we were honestly pretty worried just how much repair might be needed!

SO we loaded up the 4-wheeler and fencing supplies and headed out. The perimeter fence was surprisingly in decent shape, just needed a couple braces here and there and a good stretching! The spring box on the other hand, now that’s going to be a little bit of a project! Thanks to some amazing snow and rain this winter and spring the water is running extremely well! But the spring box desperately needs cleaned out and the piping for the stock trough needs redone! AND we found 3 more springs that we can protect and hopefully develop over time! Yippie for water in the high desert!

As we where going around the pasture I was AMAZED at the wonderful variety of wild flowers blooming and the different grasses that were flourishing in the still damp soil. It was warm and as we drove over a raise I could smell the sweet smell of lupine, arrow leaf, wild onion, and flox.

I always enjoy when spring comes to the high desert.  Sandhill cranes, other migratory birds on their journey north, “Whistle pigs (aka sage rats) out in full force in the desert.

But spring in the desert is special. Or so it is to me. For one thing, it starts early, often weeks ahead of schedule. Then next day, you wake up and walk outside as I did just yesterday and everything seems somehow different. The air is clear and 10 degrees warmer.

An old timer once told me about spring: “March comes in like a lion,” he explained, “because the Lord sends the wind to blow away the dead remains and make room for new growth.” Then he added with a grin, “But it always goes out like a lamb. And April’s showers bring the May flowers!”

I think of his words every spring when the winds begin to blow. I claim them as a promise of new growth, new life to come.