Hallelujah Spring

Farmdoc and I have sharefarmed with our next door neighbour, Sharon, since we moved to Onemilebridge. A few years ago a tree fell onto one of the fences between our properties so we took the opportunity to put in a new gate.

Then Farmdoc made a track from the gate to our driveway. The track meanders through a sycamore forest and is wide enough for walking or riding a four-wheel bike. This morning Farmdoc and I strolled it when we went across to feed Sharon's dogs.

This time of the year the forest floor is a sea of seedlings and all the trees are sprouting new leaves.

The track skirts rocks.

And ferns.

When we bought the property we planned to eradicate the sycamore, which is a weed, but we soon learned that we couldn't, so now we try to control it on some parts of our land and enjoy it on others. We've even made a picnic spot where we come in summer for the shade and in autumn to enjoy the colour of the leaves as they turn yellow.

This new track was such a success that Farmdoc made another one leading from our driveway up to the top water tank. We call it the pink track for the colour of the baling twine he marked it out with.

This track also has its fair share of beautiful rock formations

and ferns of various types

Every time we walk these tracks we tell each other that whatever the season is at that moment, the forest is at its most beautiful right then. We said it last autumn when the leaves were gold; we said it in winter when the trees were stark and bare and made us feel we were deep in some European country; and we'll say it again when the forest is cool and shady in the middle of summer. We said it this morning with everything bursting into tender new leaf.

Hallelujah, spring!

In Search of Lost Goats

Goats are such escape artists. They find all the weak spots in your fences, or simply jump them, and then look surprised when they land on the other side. How did I get here? they say.

And when they've gone missing and you find them - or they find you - they look so innocent. Who me? they say.

Yesterday we went in search of a mob of fifteen that had breached the fence between our share-farmer neighbour and her neighbour, and then made their way via another neighbour's property in a long loop back into our sycamore forest.

We haven't really been panicked about them; this time of year when the leaves turn and fall there's plenty of feed in the forest for goats.

We didn't find them, but there can't be too many nicer ways to spend an autumn afternoon than tramping through paddocks, bush and forest with your fellow farmers. And we didn't come home empty handed: one of our neighbours has a laden pear tree he was happy to share with us. As for the goats, they're holidaying somewhere on our land and we'll look for them again later in the week.