Snow still covers the grass, so there is no grazing. But there is running and leaping and twisting in the air.
The hens, too, are eager to move about. Several test their wing strength and fly onto the stall rails.
I, too, dressed in just a windbreaker, and no hat or gloves, run about and celebrate the warmth.
But I am reminded that I do not have hooves or exposed toenails, and I slide on the melting snow and go crashing to the ground.