Today is Easter Sunday. Some celebrate Jesus. Some fertility and new life. Most; chocolate! I've been celebrating the sun's gift of nimble fingers at work in the alpaca pasture. The iron grip of the ice leaving the soil, feeling the freedom in the waking warm earth at my feet.
I haven't been too busy to write. I've been busy experiencing a season changing in another country for the first time. Until now I've never been away from Wales for more than a few weeks. For most of us, travel is a break in time. Our perception of time being working hours and weekends. We don't just leave the country, we leave dust to fall onto blank pages in diaries. In theory we needn't leave at all. We experience new places as if living in a painting. Not staying long enough to see it move and change. I thought that the novelty of new experiences would be short lived since I moved here for good. But each day has brought a new surprise. None more pleasing to the senses than the arrival of spring.
The Lancaster countryside is rejoicing in the delayed departure of winter. The morning sun kisses the land awake, leaving lipstick stains in greens, yellows, pinks. Mostly green. Farmer's fields that surround our house turned to emerald over night. The wooden deck in our garden warms in the morning. Our cats stretch out on it and writhe in pleasure under the new playful sun. I see a new palette of colour, not only in flowers but feathers too. Birds hop through our garden and feast on the worms that ventured on our driveway after a nourishing rain shower.
There's one thing I miss about Wales at this time of year; lambs. Fortunately I have 24 alpaca friends to compensate. The winter has been tough on them. Even with such dense fleece their bodies use much more energy to keep warm in cold temperatures. Especially with a nursing cria (baby alpaca). The fresh grass carpeting the alpaca pasture is a welcome sight and the alpaca's moods match the festival of spring colours. The older boys, like our cats, are writhing on the warm earth and basking in the goldilocks perfection of sunlight. The girls and their crias are doing what alpacas do best-grazing. Most of the alpaca females are pregnant and nursing crias that are almost weaned. Eating for three is a full time job! Poop scooping has become an enjoyable chore now that I can feel the sun on my back and warmth in my fingers. I can clean up in the pasture now, it's when I've observed most of the changes in my surroundings. It's my most peaceful time of day, the only distraction is Dante's inquisitive face poking into my bucket or around my shoulders. I wouldn't be without him though, his large inky black eyes warm my heart in the coolest of breezes.
After training the boys this morning I sat in the girl's pasture and just watched. In South America they call alpacas 'silent brothers'. I find peace in their quiet nature. The group dynamics are fascinating to me. Cattarah is the only female who hasn't been bred and acts like a nanny to the four crias. This morning as the mothers chewed hay in the shade I watched her take Delilah and Marco for a stroll in the pasture. They played! It was the sweetest thing I've witnessed in my time at the Alpaca farm. Cattarah led the crias to a dried up dusty puddle. Delilah and Marco observed as she eased her large sturdy body to the ground and rolled on her back, sending a plume of powdery earth into the air. She rose and turned to watch the crias follow her lead. Lucy and Dominic, intrigued by the clouds of dust that glowed around their pals where quick to join in the fun. My love for these majestic creatures grew tenfold.
When I return home to work with their incredible fibre I'm still inspired by the herd. I use no machinery in the process of making. From skirting raw wool right through to the finished product, I carry the peace of the farm with me. I've designed fabrics inspired by the alpacas I'm lucky enough to spend time with every other day. The way their fleece forms a wavy texture around the bottom of their long smooth necks. Heads rising from the feed box, peppered with long strands of hay. The strong bonds of companionship between herd members. Before volunteering at the farm I had no clue what I wanted to make. Or why. These quiet mornings have made me want to honour their nature and spread the love I have for alpacas.
I promise to share my creations soon, this is something I really want to get right.
