When I looked at the photos this morning, it felt almost like a fairy tale. The farm saw two huge tree limbs come down in the heavy wind.

I was mesmerized by the sight of Maria climbing up in this frail and fallen tree limb because she wanted the sheep to get to the high leaves as well as the low ones, which they had already devoured.

“It bothered me, ” she explained, “that they couldn’t get high enough for all those leaves; it must have been frustrating to them.” Well, it must have been.

If you live with Maria, you would need no explanation. She loves every one of her animals and goes far above and beyond with every one of them. She talks to chickens, counts the sheep every morning, knows their names and moods, and talks to donkeys.

One of the limbs that fell was stuffed with maple leaves, which our sheep do not eat; they seem to know they can be poisonous to some animals.

Not one leaf, not one sheep ate even one maple leaf. They just pretended they weren’t there.

 

A few days later, another large limb fell from our old apple tree. The donkeys and sheep devoured all of the leaves from the apple tree within reach. In a day, they were all eaten.

Yesterday, Maria felt severely for the sheep; they couldn’t reach all the leaves in the fallen upper limb. She got her shears, climbed up the stem, and started cutting them down, letting them fall to the ground.

They were pleased. Hey came running from all over the place. They knew she would come.

 

 

The sheep seemed to know what was happening; they came rushing in from the back pasture and surrounded Maria and the tree limb, eating fast and furiously. I  felt the photos were eerily beautiful, iconic, and a story of mercy and empathy. It would have been so easy to just let them feast on the lower leaves. She couldn’t, I knew she couldn’t. I just smiled and smiled. I   love this girl. She has the biggest heart on the planet.

It may look easy, but it wasn’t.

 

The sheep had plenty to eat in the pasture, and Mike Conklin came today (see down below on the blog) to cut up the limb and bring some of the stems out to our fire mound in the back. e will have a big burn in December and a new cord of firewood for this coming winter.

The sheep were delighted, and so was Maria. “Have some leaves, sweethearts,” she kept calling out, climbing all over the vast limb, even as it got hotter and hotter. She didn’t need to call them, they were right there.

I really wanted a photo album of this. Images do so much for words.

I believe she got every one of those leaves onto the ground.

That, I thought,  is devotion.

 

 

Maria went up and down, carefully navigating the leaves and limbs. The animals circled and circled. It looked at times as if they were all dancing together. They were certainly connected to each other.

Even the imperious, above-it-all donkeys deigned to eat some of the leaves from the apple tree. And then stood by, vaguely disgusted with all the commotion.

These photos speak for themselves of kindness and thoughtfulness. This is how you get animals to love and feel safe around you.

 

 

The donkeys wolved down their share of leaves, but always need to remain apart from it all, as they do. When done, Maria came over to brush them, she says she saw them getting jealous. With donkeys, I believe it. They want their attention. And they need it. If they don’t see Maria at least once a day, they whine and bray.

This was one of the days when I am so glad to be a photographer. How much easier it is to find the words when you can also see the pictures. the tree drama is over. No harm done, no one or thing hurt, and both trees are healthier for it. Thanks, angels for keeping an eye out for the farm.