Stephanie Marohn's Blog

The animals are starting the apple ritual early this year. They coax me to the various trees around the property to get me to shake the tree and bring down some apples for them. The apples aren’t ready, but the animals can see the tempting orbs hanging there, out of their reach. The donkeys, Pegasus, and Chloe all know from previous years that I am available to perform this service for them. Beau and Fleur-de-Lys weren’t here last apple season, so they didn’t know what this early morning walk was all about the first time everyone headed out, following me to a tree. Chloe was the first to give the ritual call this season, standing outside my door and baaing. I knew what she wanted and we headed for the nearest tree.

Beau and Fleur watched the apples fall, but I don’t think they had ever had an apple before. They didn’t run forward like the others to root in the grass for the fruit. I brought an apple to each of them, bit into it so they could break it apart more easily, and presented it to them. Beau sampled it immediately, while Fleur puzzled over this strange food item. The twins are too young for the juggling it takes to bite off chunks of the rolling fruit, so they just watched and snuffled near their mother’s nose lowered to the ground. Fleur soon got how delicious even mostly green apples are. Now she and Beau run to me for the ritual too.

Chloe calls to me most mornings to come around the house to the Rome tree—this year’s best apples. A few days ago, she and Beau were waiting by the front steps. Seeing them from the living room window, I went out to take them on a walkabout. I called to them to follow as I headed for a different tree down the hill. Chloe understood what we were doing and set off after me immediately. Beau didn’t know, but followed anyway. At the tree, I shook down the sweet little yellow apples (closer to ripe) and watched them excitedly eat this manna fallen from heaven. I thought of all the gifts showered on all of us all the time. Like Beau and Fleur, we sometimes have to learn to recognize the gift. Let us be as fast as they were.

Just as I wrote this, Chloe called from the Rome tree for her morning apples. Excuse me while I go pick some—be right back…

Chloe under the Rome tree

Beau and the apple gift

Chloe had her flock with her. Beau came up the stairs to the deck to gain better access to the apple tree. He discovered he could go up on his back legs and reach some of the apples himself, plus delicious green leaves.

Little Snowflake gazed into my eyes when I held a bite of apple out to her, more interested in looking into my soul than what I held in my hand. She is so very present in her eyes, not having had to leave her body since she was born into the peace and joy of the sanctuary. She gazes at me intently, looking as though she is getting to know me. Our eyes meet and we know each other.

Snowflake climbs the stairs to join her Uncle Beau

Shearing happened last week—the annual event that must be endured to get those heavy coats of wool off for the summer. It’s an uncomfortable procedure for the sheep (and scary if it’s your first time!) and I feel their distress—we’re all relieved when it’s over. This was Fleur and Beau’s first shearing, since they are just over a year old. I had Chloe go first so Beau and Fleur could see what it was all about. Fleur went next and her babies set up a cry immediately—their bleats sounded like “Mom! Mom! Mom!” We were all in one stall together so nobody would have to be anxious at being separated from the flock, but the lambs had never seen their mother in someone else’s hands, much less a stranger’s, and they kept up their cries until the sheep shearer had restored Fleur to them.

Beau after his first shearing

Now we can see what Beau and Fleur-de-Lys look like without all their shaggy wool.

Fleur-de-Lys after her first shearing

Snowflake and Aurora Charlotte with their mom

The babies still sound like babies, but they are almost as tall as their petite mother.

A measure of their growing up is that they are willing to be a distance from their mom, which they wouldn’t do for the first six weeks.
Since she is nursing, Fleur has to graze a lot, and the babies sometimes want to nap in the shade instead of roaming around her.

The twins taking a nap with Aunt Chloe

I was indoors writing when a chorus of bleating and baaing drew me outside to make sure all was well. The picture here is what I found. From her position in the shade, Aurora Charlotte would every so often call for her mother (I guess Snowflake let her sister do the checking in) and Fleur would answer, often with her mouth full, head still down grazing, so she sounded like she was baaing under water. When they saw me, the chorus increased all around, but the twins stayed where they were, happy with their Auntie Chloe.