Day: October 18, 2016

It’s supposed to be 80 degrees here today, and I recall many Octobers when we already had snow on the ground. Climate change is disturbing, but to a photographer, it is also beautiful. Today,a kind of Equine rebellion. Some days for reasons of their own, the donkeys and the pony, Lulu, Fanny and Chloe decide they prefer a pasture to the one we have chosen.

This morning, we opened up the back pasture, at Lulu’s Crossing. The equines decided they wanted to go to a different pasture, and when that happens, they simply stand and walked towards the pasture they prefer, and wait for us to give in.

We do not give in, we opened the back pasture, walked back to the pole barn, raked out the manure and had breakfast. Chloe and the donkeys were kind of outraged, they brayed and whinnied in protest, then gave in and headed out to the back pasture. You cannot lose those arguments with farm animals if you wish to have a sane and orderly life. It was neat to see them preening and posturing out there, Chloe kept starting at the other gate as if she could will it to open.

Then the gave in and went to join the sheep. Warm and misty mornings make for nice photographs.

When Maria and I first met, six or seven years ago, I was struck by her intuitive ability to talk with animals. I first saw this with the donkeys, then the sheep and more recently, her pony Chloe. Animals smell and sense emotion, and Maria’s emotions are close to the surface.

She kneels down, listens, touches, and she shares ideas, thoughts and feelings with them. Every morning, they will even forego food to be near her for a few minutes. I have been working on communicating with animals for more than 15 years, and it was Maria’s special gift that first inspired me to write a book, which has become “Talking To Animals,” due out next Spring. I thought of it this morning when I saw her kneeling with the donkeys out in the pasture.

They ground her, she grounds them. I do this work with the dogs, the donkeys to a lesser degree, and sometimes the sheep. This is always a  beautiful thing to see and contemplate, it never seems old to me, learning how to talk to animals deepens our connection to them in so many ways.

In the book I describe the different tools of communication – food, emotion, visualization, body language, voice. It is, I think, one of my best books. But I suppose I am not objective.

__

If you wish to pre-order “Talking To Animals,” you can do so via Battenkill Books, my wonderful  local independent bookstore. They take credit cards and Paypal. I will sign and personalize any books pre-ordered through Battenkill, and people who pre-order the book will also receive a gift, picture postcards of the farm or tote-bags or, in about a dozen cases, one of Maria’s potholders. You can pre-order the book here.

The old apple tree is probably as old as the farmhouse, it has a couple of centuries on it, it somehow seems to embody the soul of the place, it has dignity and beauty to it, and it’s long and beautiful shadow is the first thing we see in the morning. There is a great deal of myth and folklore about apple trees, they are independent and mysterious.

Two years ago, apples were raining down on us for much of the summer, this year not a single apple, they often produce apples every other year. Some farmers say an abundance of apples is nature’s way of providing animals with food in a tough winter, this theory is unproven.

I appreciate the shadow of the tree, it suggests crisis and mystery, it suggests life.

One of the things I love about Brattleboro is the sense of humanity and individuality that survives there. It is striking to walk around in a downtown where there are no box stores or franchise stores, you get the sense of being in a particular place, where small businesses and individual tastes and styles can survive, you don’t see the same things you see in almost every town and city in America now.

You also see people sitting out on the street and just talking and drinking coffee. Talking out on the street is a lost art, I saw it everywhere in Brattleboro. In New York City, every seems frantic to me, pressured and stressed. In Brattleboro, people remember what is really important: people.