The Trust of the Innocent

"The trust of the innocent, is the liar's most useful tool" ~Stephen King

Trust is a gift given to others. What one does with that gifted trust, denotes the character one has.

We often scatter the word innocence in our speech like a crumb of bread, as if it is an everyday reserve of little worth. It is a word of profound depth, that encompasses a part of life that is lived only once. It is not a throw away comment and cannot be used lightly, for once innocence is lost, it cannot be regrown or born again. It is something to be cherished and protected by those that have lost theirs, and can understand the implications of the loss. Innocence is either mocked by many in jest, or derision, preyed upon by those with unwholesome intent, or used against the holder of innocence, to gain something that is not for the taking. Child or lamb, they are both born with the innocence of trust, the belief that all is right, all is loving. Only those with greed in their hearts would wish to steal innocence.

Hundreds of times I could capture a variation of this image; the bond and the love. Yet each image can only paint a picture, it doesn't capture the essence and the depth of the feeling. Little Winifred cares so deeply for Gwynnevere, that while she naps Winifred will reposition herself to sniff Gwynnevere's face and burrow her head into her neck. It isn't just a case of wanting comfort from her, there is a palpable worry for her friend. She checks her breath, she lays her ears close to her heart. It is breathtaking in its sublime concern.

Winifred lives in the moment, if her friend is not engaging with her, then she watches over her until she slips into the dreamworld herself. We do not position Winifred, she chooses where she goes, in this instance Gwynnevere had just laid down and nodded off, within moments Winifred scooted around. 

As parents to them both, it is always a concern when a bond formed from love is this intense. If one becomes ill then it affects the other, if one were not available to the other, for multiple unforeseen reasons, then this causes stress and sadness. We watch and wonder at their relationship, and let the love for our daughters umbrella their journey together. It would not be seen as a problem for anyone if Winifred was a dog, but she is not. She belongs to one of the most abused, tortured, misconstrued and misrepresented animals in the farming world. They are safe here in the Land Ark, we let the magic and love run as it must for them both. 

The gorgeous Gretel

One of the lambs that we rescued just before easter 2024, Gretel is an absolute delight. She is so close to her mum Abigail, that when she decides to make contact with us, it's exceptionally intense, yet otherworldly. 

Her stare is something else to behold, like an alien visitor assessing what creature and classification I am. Occasionally she will allow a head scratch, but she has to be in the mood. More often than not she just wants to stand close and study. Head always lowered so she can look directly. If I break contact before she decides she is finished, she will shout and follow, then repeat the study.  It's not a complete day without a little Gretel research. 

I can't imagine a world without her in it, yet she would have already been dispatched, torn apart, packaged, burnt, and would be a fetid worthless lump, congealing in a sewer by now. How odd a want we have, to take someone so beautiful, individual, loving and free thinking and reduce them to less than nothing. How desperately sad and odd. 

This is such a beautiful picture of a beautiful soul, and my mind wanders in the direction it feels for each image. I thought this would stay beautiful, but how do we recognise beauty, without acknowledging the darkness of the reality in which we strive?

Have a beautiful day.

Meet Gentleman Jack

 Jack is the biggest gentleman we have ever met, and it's hard to imagine his life being any other way, than it is, but it could have been over before it really started.  Over the years we have had many farmers pass by and admire him, some for the astounding animal he is, others to ask if he was for sale. 

Sell Jack? Nobody could afford him, he is worth his life, what cost is that? How do we define what he values his life to be? He is worth his family, who could afford to loose him? He is worth his friends, how could they afford to part with him? His worth is his to own, and for him to decide everyday what he does with it. How he chooses to interact with the outside world. He was brought into existence to only survive if he was female, but he fought against that fate. How do we put a price on that courage, that commitment to pull through awful illnesses, loosing his natural mother, what hubris to think we can define a price. What a disgusting attitude to believe in and hold over a fellow earthling. 

He is worth more than we can give him too 😔 He is worth not being behind a gate, free to roam in all the fields, he is worth choosing going left or right, not herded into the fields that are ours.  He would choose, if free, to stand in the road for as long as he wanted, he loves sniffing flowers. He would choose to itch himself along the sides of cars. He would choose to wander off down the chemin to the bluebell wood. I know without a shadow of a doubt, he would sit there in the luscious beauty and smell, for he always sniffs the bluebells and daffodils along the paths between pastures.

But we are all caged, whether we realise it or not. Our cages can be vast, or tiny and disgusting. We can have perceived freedoms within limitations, but we are all brought into line. I would rather we were all free to roam, but the majority of humans have no boundaries that we seem happy with, content with, we always want more, or something that belongs to others, other lives being the biggest example.  Those that rule us, rule by greed, and this filters down, so that the poorest souls are left with nothing at the bottom.

Until we are all free of this greed mentality, I don't feel there is a peace to be found. The change needs to come from the bottom of society up, for those at the top will never release their sweaty, fisted grip of control, power or the need to have more. The power we have is in our deportment towards life, our reserves of patience, hope and kindness. To shine until it becomes infectious and those around us have to take notice. To vote with our choices of consumerism and action. If the majority were to decide that we really wanted the world to be a kinder place, then it would be.