The rain has stopped, the sun is out - slight breeze twirls about. I step outside and start setting up my skirting "table" - a screen with a wooden frame that my husband made -, grab two saw horses, open them up and proceed to place the screen over them on the grass in the yard. Acorn wood peckers are really yaking it up over the the native oak grove next to the pasture - as I unfurl the first fleece freed from it's bag onto the screen. It is from "Beluga" a huge, black badgerface spotted ewe. She is bright white with a black and brown clown face. Her fleece glows in the rays of the sun - I pick out a few pieces of hay and take out some of the coarser belly wool. A few Western Bluebirds fly over head, their light, melodic whistling warms my heart. I pick up the white fleece, now ready for a spinner or crafter, marveling in it's deep, thick warmth and lucious, soft hand. It smells of the earth, the fields - and I pondor what it might become - a sweater in natural white ? Dyed into colors of the rainbow? Many hats or perhaps a scarf? A felting project? Sounds of the neighbor's tractor engine hum in the distance - another day, another fleece is ready.