Chivalry of the Ovine Kind

We have a flock of six sheep: five ewes and one wether. They're quite tame; even the most skittish (Scaredy) doesn't mind our presence, especially when we're handing out treats, and several will eat from our hands. Their purpose in life is to eat, and they're easily moved about from orchard to paddock, wherever the grass is longest.

The wether is the oldest of them. We're not sure how old he is, but he already looked fairly elderly when he came to live here several years ago. He still eats heartily, and is quite active, although he moves stiffly (hence his name, Limpy). We've had him checked out, and there's nothing obviously wrong with him. It's probably something in the nature of arthritis.

A few evenings ago I went outside to gather rosemary, and saw the sheep behaving as if something was up. The ewes were tightly bunched, as sheep like to be when threatened, but Limpy was several sheep lengths in front of them, standing firm and ready to face off whatever the threat was.

It proved to be the very small dog that belongs to our nearest neighbours, and which gives the impression it would have trouble injuring a teddy bear. I doubt if the sheep were really frightened, and they were certainly in no real danger. But Limpy takes his responsibilities seriously. He may not know quite what to do with his harem, but he does know he must look after them.

It's the thought that counts.

Here they are enjoying fresh pasture:

Spring

There are so many lovely sights on and around our property at this time of year. (Click for larger pictures.)

The kowhai is one of New Zealand's few deciduous native trees. It keeps its leaves till just before flowering, so that the mass of yellow flowers first appear on bare branches. This tree is only a few years old; mature ones can reach 12 metres in height. Kowhai is "yellow" in Maori.


A plum tree covered with blossom. I never realised that plum blossom is scented until our own trees began bearing so heavily. By Christmas this tree will be laden with fruit, a variety that's delicious fresh but not worth preserving. The sheep make a fine job of clearing the windfalls.


A new neighbour. This calf is only a day or two old, with a furry coat as soft as a cat's, not the rougher weatherproof coat it'll have later. It's being hand-fed, and rushes up to the fence as soon as it sees us, ready to suck at fingers or clothing, gazing from soft brown eyes under inch-long lashes.

And a sound of spring: the pipiwharauroa, or shining cuckoo. It spends its winters in warmer places like Vanuatu and New Caledonia. When that distinctive call is heard, I know spring is here.

Crabapple Jelly

Making jams and jellies was a necessity for the women I write about; for me it's an indulgence. There's much satisfaction to be had from a row of gem-bright jars filled with fruit from our own orchard.