Our farm is an organic place, it grows and shrinks, changes form and feeling. Once the Pole Barn was the hart of the pasture, then it was the hill where Red lay to watch the sheep.

In the winter, the heart of the pasture is often the hay feeder where the donkeys and sheep gather to eat.

Lately, it’s the small apple tree out in the pasture, shrouded in chicken wire to save the bark. It’s a beautiful tree, it defines the pasture, Simon, Red, Zelda are all buried around it.

This time of year, hundreds of small greenish apples are coming off of the tree.

The sheep and donkeys get the apples on the lower branches, but Maria reaches up and gets them the ones further up.

Lulu and Fanny and the braver and more social sheep come out to see her and get there share. Watching this from a small distance, I thought this is one of the images that defines life here, and is now the heart of the pasture. And the sky posed for me.