The family moved along the mountainside on a chilly winter’s day. Actually, it wasn’t all that cold yet, considering, and the snows were not terribly deep yet, mostly because the worst of the winter hadn’t yet arrived. This suited the flock of bighorn sheep perfectly fine, since it meant that the foraging was still easy, and they could take their time in any one area.
Mom, dad and the kids moved together, generally staying close to one another. When it was time to move, and one of the little ones was not yet ready, Dad would simply come up behind the reluctant one, lower his head, and tenderly, lovingly and with some degree of force, head-butt the kid. The kid would startle, jump and then move right along. This process played out repeatedly throughout the afternoon. Nature finds a way, every single time, to get her point across.
The bighorns stayed on the mountainside for most of the afternoon. The sun would come and go from behind the clouds, making for the most wonderful play on light and shadows; the bighorn sensed this, too, for they would often head into the sun. Eventually, the afternoon wore on and it was time to go. It had been a wonderful afternoon for the bighorn flock.