Goats. They're a challenge to photograph, for sure. But I love the reason why. They exist where fearless meets curious.
The herd moves in unison, like a comforting blanket settling on a bed. It allows each goat an open heart to bravely taste whatever is in front of them (such as a sweaty t-shirt or chewy red wellies coated with poo) or flock in the grassy wake of a complete stranger. In the safety of many, they are free to be one.
I had a hard time getting a wide-angle shot because each time I tried to move from the herd, by the time I was turned around and on the ground, there they were - all oblong ears and silly goat grins. "Watcha' doin'?" they asked, eyes wide and unblinking. "Sitting in dung," I say.
I wonder, as the mirror of the lens shows them their cock-headed reflection, if they have feeling in their heart or a thought in their head. I'm going to say "yes." And I am going to assume they are as happy and carefree as they appear, eating sapling leaves, giving the occasional buck to a brother, feeling fresh after a good milking and just hanging comfortably with the herd. At peace.
Thank you to Rachel and Nat for letting me explore their farm, play with the goats and view their creamery operation.