When I was young, I grew up on the bayou. Most of my spare time was spent with my older brother exploring. No matter how many times we would find the same thing, we were always excited. The 267th hermit crab was just as exciting as the 5th or 432nd. Fishing in the Gulf of Mexico, no matter how many or how often I would see a porpoise, my heart would stop and I would point to make sure everyone else would see it. My dad thinks my enthusiasm over something I have seen dozens upon dozens of times is quite amusing.
It’s the same now that I am on the farm. I still gasp when I come upon a turtle along the fence line or path. I stop when a hawk is flying over. The cardinals in the snow still make me smile. Work stops when I find a bird’s nest or a bunch of mushrooms. My eyes are always scouring just off the path or road in hopes of finding some treasure. I try to keep my camera close to make sure I can snap a quick picture.
No matter the season, there is always something beautiful on the farm. 
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