An evening walk...

 I went for an evening walk the other night and grabbed my camera.  I couldn't help taking a picture of this toadstool for my bloggy friend, Pom Pom, who adores toadstools.  This is the real deal -- 'shrooms growing strong on a pile of cow manure.  Some might not think it's a pretty sight, but I do.  I like mushrooms and toadstools.

 I walked myself a mile and a half, down the trail to the old shearing pens where we work our sheep.  The sheep and lambs aren't here today.  They're out to pasture now, grazing to their hearts content,  and the yearling ewes are having their babies all on their own.

 I walked through the alley where we load sheep into the trailer and I hopped over this white, rusty gate to get to the barn.  I had heard that there was something special growing inside, and I had to see it for myself.

 See how broken down this old place is?  The tin is off the roof and so are the boards.  It's still standing despite the wild winds we always have and despite the heavy snows.  When I look up at the holes in the roof of this barn, I imagine them as holes in the floor of heaven.  There was a song by that name.  Do you know it?  I think of those holes as places where God sends his mercy down and where our prayers rise up to Him.

 Back to the thing growing in the shearing pens barn -- this tree!  From what I can gather, I think it's an apple tree.  The bark and leaves look like an apple tree, and it makes sense that there would be one growing in here.  Hubby says he threw many an apple core through the roof when he was a boy, and I'm sure the old shearers had their share of apple cores left behind.  It's a perfect growing place for a tree too.  Lots of protection from deer, from wind, and from hail (unless it came through the top).  It has the perfect amount of sun -- not too much scorching prairie sun, and not too little.  I hope it grows through the roof and puts on apples some day.

 I found these letters on the wall in blue paint -- G R with a curlycue underneath.  I wonder who that wrote it?  I can't think of anyone in the family with those initials.  Maybe a shearer or a friend who came to help dock lambs.

 And here's a tool that was left to rust on the beam.  It's a sheep piller.  You put a tiny pill (likely de-worming medicine) in the tip and put it down the throat of the sheep.  I brought it home.  I'm not sure what I'll do with it, but something will tickle my fancy, I'm sure.

This is the stockade on the south side of the pens.  I just liked the look of it against the blue and white sky.  I realize it's not officially summer yet, but are you taking summer evening walks?   What do you see when you are out for a walk?