Baby Big-Head

Driving in and out of Bethel is driving through and by pastures.  Pastures filled this time of year with grasses and babies.  Baby cows, baby horses, baby donkeys.  There is a very small colt, only recently standing, parented by a pair of beautiful miniature painted ponies that is so flat-out adorable he is causing near wrecks. We slow and linger on the road's curve by this particular pasture, so smitten and eager to catch a sight of this irresistible creature that we have been mesmerized into carelessness.

His paint is brown with a great swath of white that appears to have been poured across his back, dripping down his side just a bit.  His legs are matchstick and his head simply enormous.  A veritable watermelon of a head. How this thing is  balanced on top of this smallest of creatures must be theroretically impossible but there it is all the same. The main action of the day for baby big-head seems to be nursing and napping although yesterday we did witness a kicking up of the matchsticks and a brief run away from Mother followed by an immediate run back to her.

Will we survive baby big-head?  Will we be able to keep to the road?  The answer is still out but there is hope in the fact that babyhood is brief.  And that, my friends, is our only hope of surviving the baby-filled charm of early summer in Bethel.