VIDEO: Lambing season indicates spring is on the horizon

MOUNT VERNON - On a hill outside the city limits, past miles of snow-blanketed fields punctuated by weather-beaten corn stubble, a ewe cleans her newborn lambs.

Frigid winds mask the faint odor of sheep manure mixed with straw.

Winter drags on.

The mother sheep and her offspring, though, are part of an annual ritual - lambing season - that symbolizes the promise of spring.

“It is a sign,” said Eric Menzel, 38, an assistant at Pavelka's Point, Inc. in rural Mount Vernon. “It's not spring, but you can see that it's coming.”

To Lois Pavelka, 69, and Bill Ellison, 66, owners of Pavelka's Point and Ellison Farm, lambing season indicates the end to the slower paced winter on their farms.

The two will tend to 50 births before the early lambing season is over, compared to 180 later this spring. They take turns awakening every four hours during the night to stand watch and assist.

Most lambs so far have been born late at night, but one ewe started making a “nest” in the ground one afternoon this month. Twins quickly followed.

The first newborn struggled to stand on wobbly black legs just moments after birth.

Its sibling remained in the straw until prodded to move by its mother.

“Oh, that's wonderful - that's what you want,” Pavelka whispered as the first lamb began to nurse.

The awe-inspiring scene is one that fewer Iowans will observe.

According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the number of sheep and lamb operations in Iowa dropped from 4,900 in 1998 to 3,500 in 2007, the most recent year listed.

Nationwide, 82,000 sheep farms were in operation last year, down from 82,500 in 2008.

The drops are no surprise to seasoned sheep farmer Ellison.

Climbing feed and other overhead costs are only part of the story.

“How many people do you know who will get up at 2 a.m. to check on them?” Ellison asked.

Newborns, looking like cuddly stuffed animals that call “maaa” after their mothers, might be tempting to keep as pets.

But despite Pavelka's admission that she names the lambs she bottle feeds, most are destined to be eaten. Some are sold at the sale barn. Pavelka also sells meat at farmers markets.

Wool is a low-cost commodity. The 30 cents paid for each pound of wool doesn't even cover the $5 per sheep to have them sheared, Ellison noted.

Early lambs bring a good price for Easter meals, Ellison said, but some sheep are bred to give birth beginning in April, in warmer weather with lower heating costs.

Newborns rejected by mothers or one among triplets are bottle fed.

Ellison describes how Pavelka, a soft-spoken woman with delicate features, tends to the lambs.

“She was a school nurse for 25 years so she's an automatic mother when it comes to taking care of babies,” he said.

Pavelka stays on her farm mainly because of Ellison. A neighbor and former auctioneer, he helped Pavelka prepare for an auction after her husband's death in 2002.

“We basically fell in love,” he said.

Pavelka teases that the hard work will make her move to a condo, but has no intention of leaving.

“This is fun out here,” she said. “I wouldn't trade it for anything.”