Yesterday we walked in a different direction. There were still blåveis leaves to eat.

Contrary to what most people think, dogs don’t eat only meat. They always grab some vegetables when we’re out for a walk.

We passed two old men who seemed astonished to see the goats walking behind me.  I was preoccupied with my camera and I wasn’t paying anyone any attention.  Vesla obviously regretted that we missed the chance for a chat.

The small dog isn’t used to going this way and the rocks are much bigger than him, but he’s up for anything; he’s very game for a sixteen-year-old.

These boulders have tumbled down from the cliff of the escarpment behind our house.  It’s hard to see quite how big they are; these two were about seven feet high.

This area is protected.  It’s not like a city park: nobody comes to clear away the fallen trees, and the birds and animals and insects who live here make use of the pieces.  Every time we come to a fallen tree, we have to decide whether we’re going to scramble over the top…

…or crawl underneath.

I used to somehow block out the fallen trees — something about them being dead, I think — but I’ve come to love the amazing jumbled-up expressionist compositions they make,

and their contrast to this kind of landscape, right next door:

There were some extraordinarily puffy looking clouds yesterday.  My daughter says they may be Icelandic volcano droppings.

The lake is still frozen, if only just.  It’s freshwater and it takes some weeks to unfreeze after the winter.

The dogs & I went around one side of this big rock.  The goats went around the other side.

Look what they found: an exercise class paying obeisance to the volcanic ash.

What the hell is going on?  says Holly.  In the background is another civilization, our local town.

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