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.
A Bad Guide 
When the big storm went through part of Switzerland a few years ago knocking down millions of trees (and many more in France) the authorities decided that instead of trying to clear up, everything would be left (unless blocking roads). They had spent zillions the previous time clearing up. This time they both saved money, and left it to nature, and nature has been dealing with this for ever. Dead trees eventually rot down and provide a valuable ecological niche.
Q: Why is the dog sometimes on a leash and sometimes not ? Proximity of the strange civilization ?
¡¡Love this!! (with quadruple exclamation marks)
Now I’ll begin my day with happiness . Thank you :-)
The larger dog, Topsy, is always on a lead unless we’re in an enclosed area. Otherwise she runs away to meet other dogs. Once she ran away, was picked up by the police and spent an afternoon in prison. She shows no regrets. As soon as the cows come outside and the birds are nesting, all the dogs will have to be on leads.
You’re welcome, Julia.
Such a great spot you have found to live in!
Genuflecting? Those people are not flexing their knees, at least not at the moment the picture was taken.
Yes, I debated about using that word, so I checked with the online (Apple) dictionary where it had :
figurative show deference or servility : politicians had to genuflect to the far left to advance their careers
Do you still think it’s a bad usage, though? Yes, because it’s not figurative and not literal. I’ll change it to “pay obeisance”, which is the only other thing I can think of.
I have to tell you I enjoy your photos of your goats. I also like seeing the landscapes. My father’s family is from Norway and it’s so interestnig to see.
How good you’ve presented such a long track in words and photos. So many anchors inspire me to imagine the story among and the context around them.
I love the closing look at the photographer.
You should consider taking a trip to Norway, Daisy.
How good you’ve presented such a long track in words and photos.
Thanks, you manage to do it every time on your blog.
The closing look at the photographer: yes, she would have liked an explanation, but I didn’t know what to tell her.
I’m moved to write because your photos look like home to me — home being the states of New Hampshire and Vermont in the U.S. Well, not all the photos, of course, but the woods and field-scapes look very familiar. Just a fool for mossy woods.
I love moss too. I’ve never spent any time in Vermont or New Hampshire, that’s very interesting that you think this is similar. I sometimes say that Norway reminds me of northern California (where I once lived), but that usually provokes snorts of disbelief.