Fodder for the soul

Are we sharing similar thoughts as we watch the cattle being fed? Fodder. Winter. Action.

The structure of everything is revealed by winter, so I am aware of this Robin following me. It's a territorial thing with Robins, they own the place. Making my way along the lane, he continually swoops on ahead always landing in full view on some perch or branch.

Letting me know who's cock of the walk.

As soon as I get closer, he's gone. Then, around the next bend, he twitches and chirps from the top of an improvised gate post brilliantly hewn from an old telegraph pole, the top of a clay jar , a piece of wire.

He's not the only one standing by agog. Other birds are gathering as the tractor arrives with this years silage. I know I say nothing much happens around here, but hey look at this, everything is going on today!

~ And suddenly all bets are off~

At first it's tentative. One foot in, one foot out. The icy winds don't help. The community has retreated. Keeping their heads down.

Winter is steadfast in it's stagnation.

Then suddenly all bets are off. We start to re-emerge, stand on corners and chat, bend down and pull a few weeds from the path, smell the primroses. Spring has arrived with buds, catkins, new leaves and birdsong.

Meanwhile the lower field has been cleared of every messy thing that I loved. They are making it pristine for planting the greenest of grass. This is all they want now, progress and pasture. My increasingly wild couple of acres are becoming a blot on the landscape of "lawns" for horses. This garden the last bastion of cover and wilderness, briars and gorse, seed heads and sceachs.

Where is the sense in wilderness anyway? No sense that can be explained maybe. But wouldn't we all thrive better if we could live and let live? Disturb as little as possible. Permit, with all our big headed power, the tiny mouse to shuffle aimlessly through the undergrowth, even though when we meet her head on we might shudder......

The Mare's breakfast!

When would he arrive with breakfast? The snow had settled as it rarely ever does. The hours were passing and the icy grass was none too appetising.

The mare heard the engine before the foal even realised that at last he was on his way.

Bale after bale of warm hay, thrown over the hedge. Steam rose from it as they both dived in.

Now the mug of coffee and the crunchy toast for me. All of us lucky to have our much needed breakfast on this beautiful but freezing cold morning beside the lake.

Then across the field, the sounds of happy munching........

A woman and her sheep....

 

As I drove into the yard on a sunny Saturday morning, a tousled head appeared from a roof-top skylight. We both kind of squeeled with delight, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY!

We met on twitter. Both shy and anonymous, I originally thought she was a man.........I mean a sheep farmer? But here she is, a well travelled woman who also happens to be a brilliant photographer! Just check out the daily photos of her flock on Facebook

Today I was to be the photographer, and she the model for an article to appear in the Irish Farmers Journal. So we got down to work.

O there were so many challenges for this novice; black faces balanced against white faces, strong sun and dappled shade, sheep nibbling at my cables, dogs rollicking around and barking at every unusual noise. And and above all, I wanted her to shine......

So at home here in her orchard. Gazing wistfully at the webs in the morning light, pointing out the plum tree with its leaves of yellowish gold. Nuzzling her much loved animals. After the "shoot" we both relaxed and that's when I captured my favourite snaps of her..........the sunlight in her hair, the happy smiles......

At last a few photographs of a human being..........





You can learn more about  Zwartbles here on the blog or follow her on twitter @zwartbles

You wouldn't get the likes of it in Killarney!

He was walking towards me from further on up the hill. We often have conversations about the state of the country, we grumble about the weather or maybe share the latest from the children who live abroad. I usually stop photographing for the duration of the chat and sometimes we walk on a little together. He has never, ever, mentioned the camera........this large camera that I lug around everywhere........he sees it but he never comments. That would be his way.

This evening the valley is dark and the setting sun is beaming colour down on the Comeragh Mountains towards the west of County Waterford. A sliver is caught by the reflective calm water of the lake below. He looks out " Sure you wouldn't get the likes of it in Killarney!"

I laugh, and yet it's true. Killarney may get all the rave reviews but County Waterford where we have put down roots has taken a big chunk of our hearts and has it's own gentler beauty.

We look out west and the chat continues; the great peace we have, the fact that the tourists don't know about our little neck of the woods, that at least the rain makes the whole place nice and green!

Then the moment has passed and my neighbour and I start to go on our way. I turn back towards the sky changing by the moment and he goes back to haul bales and feed calves.