Not only too rapid passage of time is disturbing --how can our baby goats be growing up so fast? I've included this unique look at an eyeball and ear (belonging to Milky Way) to explain one of the hazards of photographing kids - they are far too interested in the camera or my coat pockets or running and chasing - they do not pose properly at all. My delight with a digital camera is taking tons of pictures then being able to delete, delete, delete until one or two are usable.
Montana - mother goat in next picture isn't the best mother in the group but occasionally I can catch her letting Susannah nurse and be nuzzled affectionately.
I haven't mastered action photography but managed to capture Lulu in the midst of a wild run and jump adventure around the pens. Those ears are distinctive - reminds me of the Flying Nun (google Sally Field is that isn't familiar)
Here is Lulu slowing down to avoid hitting my legs - something doelings aren't always good about. I stay a tiny bit bruised up around my lower legs during "baby" season.
Evening comes to Buhlaland - we hear the whispers of spring's arrival - birds calling to establish territory and begin their spring rituals. It is good on Buhlaland to remember - to everything there is a season - sometimes we reflect on what roads brought us to this place. We are so grateful for both the physical place and spiritual "home" we have.
Seasons are not just markers of time passing - but times to experience. Bless you this Sunday - whatever season you might be experiencing - be assured
Montana - mother goat in next picture isn't the best mother in the group but occasionally I can catch her letting Susannah nurse and be nuzzled affectionately.
I haven't mastered action photography but managed to capture Lulu in the midst of a wild run and jump adventure around the pens. Those ears are distinctive - reminds me of the Flying Nun (google Sally Field is that isn't familiar)
Here is Lulu slowing down to avoid hitting my legs - something doelings aren't always good about. I stay a tiny bit bruised up around my lower legs during "baby" season.
Evening comes to Buhlaland - we hear the whispers of spring's arrival - birds calling to establish territory and begin their spring rituals. It is good on Buhlaland to remember - to everything there is a season - sometimes we reflect on what roads brought us to this place. We are so grateful for both the physical place and spiritual "home" we have.
Seasons are not just markers of time passing - but times to experience. Bless you this Sunday - whatever season you might be experiencing - be assured