... from Animals

I hear the cry of a lamb and instantly I know that something is wrong, the lamb is perhaps lost. I step outside and sure enough the lamb is a long way from the herd baaaing for its mother. I wait silently ensuring it goes no further in the opposite direction and simply listen to the call of its mother – the baaing of the lamb – the call of its mother – the baaing of the lamb; until suddenly the mother comes racing over the hillside with an urgency that every parent knows. Not long after the two other mothers in the herd race over with their lambs in tow as if to check that all is OK and mother and baby have been reunited.

My heart skips a beat.

This is just one moment in a month of staying on a farm, where I have experienced first-hand the raw instinct of animals and their babies. Of course, there are so many other things I have learnt, but for me this deserves a post all of its own because it is the animal side of things that has so affected me.

I am a vegetarian, and I am a vegetarian first and foremost because I do not want any living being to be killed for my own consumption when, in my environment, there are many other things available for me to eat and sustain myself. However, since my time on the farm I have witnessed first-hand local milk farms, cheese farms and the very hard-working family farm where I have had the privilege of staying, and what has stuck with me is that these people are striving to sustain themselves entirely on a local level. They care for their animals, they choose with great passion the places where they buy any food derived from an animal and they understand entirely from living being to plate what has happened in order to feed them and, they respect that process. In a world of great ignorance, of buying pre-packaged meat or dairy products with no thought for the journey beforehand, I have found it refreshing to talk deeply and openly with people so passionate about the realities of being self-sufficient on a local level.

But where does it leave me? Someone once said to my husband and I, “if everyone did a little bit…” and this is true. We all have to find our own level of comfort regarding how we exploit animals for our own gain be they pets, food, clothes etc but having had this more in-depth look into the production of dairy, seeing the animals queuing up, their udders – heavy with milk meant for their baby – being sucked dry by machinery, has stopped me in my tracks. Since becoming vegetarian more than three years ago my intake of dairy products has dropped significantly, I don’t buy leather products anymore and in general, becoming vegetarian has encouraged me to think in greater detail about how I exploit any animal. But staying here and seeing how all the animals run with such freedom on the land, witnessing the production of dairy products on a small organic scale (god knows how those in part of the bigger and more demanding system are treated) has forced me to question things even further. 

However, finding our own levels of comfort, our own line of how we are personally exploiting animals, means facing up to the REALITY of what goes on because only then can we make a decision based on truth.

A friend recently shared a link to a documentary and, watching it could not have been more timely for me, but as always I noticed that as with other postings of this nature, it was met with silence. I wondered:

Is this because people just don’t care?

Is it because they do care but don't feel the need to say so?

Is it because people don’t want to know the truth?

Is it because they fear that knowing the truth will force them to have to DEAL with their own levels of comfort?

Is this because they simply believe there are more important things in the world to think about (and of course, that is their right!)?

I’m not sure, but I urge anyone reading this to not shy away from the information that is out there as I believe it is not too much to ask that every human being stands up and questions where their own line is with regards to how other living beings – who share this earth with us – are treated in order to serve them.

I know I continue to question myself every single day and it is not always easy, but it is very necessary.

"EARTHLINGS is a powerful and informative documentary about society’s treatment of animals, narrated by Joaquin Phoenix with soundtrack byMoby. This multi-award winning film by Nation Earth is a must-see for anyone who cares about animals or wishes to make the world a better place"

View the documentary HERE.

… from the Milk Run

I am sat in the back of a pick-up truck, tumbling around as it makes its way higher up the mountain on a one-track path. The late afternoon sun is starting to disappear behind the mountains and the sound of birds mixed with little girls’ laughter, fills the air.

They jostle for space, giggling and screaming with joy as the truck sways around. I catch sight of my daughter’s face, bathed in sunlight against a backdrop of velvet green, her eyes closed to the wind blowing through her hair, and I know that I am witnessing the childhood I dream of for her.

When we arrive at the dairy farm, the girls hop over the side of the truck and run around saying hello to the calves; even an escapee adds to their adventure. We watch as the cows head back out to pasture and then make our way over to fill up our container with fresh milk. The girls do what children do; make a mess, fight over who holds the funnel and who pours, before they race back to the truck for the homeward adventure.

I realise, in that moment, that the opportunity to experience these daily rhythms of farming life is giving my daughter just what I had hoped: nature, freedom, fresh air, closeness to animals.

For this I am glad.

It has taken a while to settle into a new routine and for some time I found myself standing back, silently observing the daily chores of farm life, whilst feeling a little lost about my place here. But now, almost two weeks in, I wake with newfound energy wondering what the day will bring, filled with the realisation that my body – and mind – are absorbing what they so craved.

To find the time to really ask ourselves questions deep within is a luxury for most, and as I wander to the barn to feed the lambs late at night, as I work on the terraces or gaze out whilst watering the garden, as I stand with the horses, sit with the chickens and watch the sheep as they pass by my window each morning, I cherish the opportunity I have to do just that and I realise that I am gaining just as much as my daughter from this adventure.

... from a Narrowboat Wife

The lovely Peggy over at 'The Real Life of  a Narrowboat Wife' asked me to write a guest post for her blog about life on the waterways... and I was happy to oblige!

Reading it back now as I sit here looking out over the (albeit extraordinarily beautiful) misty Italian mountains, I can't help but feel a slight longing for the ducklings that will be appearing on the water right about now...

Do stop over and check out her blog - filled with both practical advice and beautiful words, all about life aboard a narrowboat :-)

... from the Mountains

It’s peaceful up here in the mountains.

I didn’t realise how it would actually feel to be up here, but it’s just that. Silent. Quiet. A feeling so all-consuming that I haven’t even been able to muster the energy to write because I am able only to be.

Of course, settling into the new routines of a wwoofer also takes time and all my energies have been focused on finding my feet, establishing my place, and ensuring that my daughter is happy and fulfilled by this experience of farm life.

I have stood looking out at the view raking cut grass and clearing terraces, and with them, my mind. I have been mesmerised by the sheep as they pass by my window each morning and I have marveled at the new birds and flowers I have seen and found.

And yet, all the time, I am wordless.

Stunned into silence, perhaps?

Sentences come to me: about the beauty, the magic, the feeling. But nothing knits together as it should. I guess I am still settling myself into a new rhythm.

I know only that I am glad for the opportunity to escape the noise of life, that I love to be near sheep and horses because they make me feel everything that is good, that I don’t care if my arms are scratched and embedded with thorns, or that my limbs ache from throwing hay bales into the loft until the sky has turned inky and the moon is so close I can almost touch it… because in the mountains, I feel alive.