I don’t know why.
Last weekend I went out the pasture to check on the goats, and I found Stella, a five month old doe, lying dead in the shed.
There is a cycle of life and death on a farm. Some of the death is planned, and some is not.
In the ongoing, neverending contest between life and death on our farm, life wins most of the time. And usually death’s victories are pyrrhic, serving the greater cause of life.
But sometimes we have senseless death. I hate it when that happens, and it strenghtens my resolve to fight harder for life.
And what is true on our farm, is true everywhere.