What a din! I thought it must be a sheep-shearing day at the neighbouring farm. Mums and lambs were noisily milling about in front of one of the barns, the doors of which, were firmly shut.
This was not the norm for them. As far as they were concerned, when you head for the barn forecourt, you naturally move on through the wide open doors of the barn and into it. The lambs were all born in there, except for the odd one or two, so, both ewes and offspring had a deep formed affinity to the place. They wanted to be let in and they did not care who knew it.
And of course, it rained, not just any sort of rain, but soaking curtains of rain.
The weather is always uncertain when the sheep are being treated, or, sorted, or, sheared. It seems like nature is being deliberately perverse. This occasion, the stock were being ‘dosed’. You can bet your bottom dollar that when they are sheared, which will be soon, we will experience gales and probably a hail storm.