I see… Lambs refusing to continue through the yards, as they endlessly bleat for their mothers. Dogs snaking towards protective ewes, impatiently stamping their feet while been evil eyed. The cold morning dew, thawing out, with help from the warm Spring sun.

I hear… The familiar whistle of my father, restlessly waiting for his dogs to do their job. Hells bells, with their ringing tones, forcing sheep and their young into the yards, only to be separated, again.

I Smell… I smell fiery fumes as the iron heats up, ready to face its first victim. The distinctive smell of sheep, kicking up dust and hastily, dashing to reunite with their family.

I feel… The warm panting bodies of lambs, pushed against my legs, squashed in holding pens. Sweat dripping down my forehead.

I Taste… Hot drips of blood splashing at my mouth, from dry, crispy, lamb ears. I seal my mouth tight, in case it happens again.


Where Am I?

Docking on the farm!
15.10.2019