Welcome Goats

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Snow and Company

Hello Goats

munch munch

Last fall Tide Mill Creamery welcomed a herd of sixty Nubian goats to the farm.  They are a gift and a delight (not without their own set of challenges of course). Our land here on the outskirts of the farm, nestled in woodland and recently cleared pasture, is the realm of the goat. In thinking of our our little farm as a whole organism, the goats fill a missing link, keeping those pastures cleared, producing fertile compost for the garden, and making the milk that has been considered by many throughout history to be a healing medicine—milk which we will be making into cheese! The cheese-making  process, in turn, produces the rich whey which we feed to our pigs. Although we will continue to make all our our delicious cow milk products, we are excited to be diversifying, and especially excited to be milking a herd of our own. Taking care of a farm, running a business, and parenting my own human “kids” can often feel hectic and overwhelming, but the goats find ways to pull me into the moment. On our romps through the woods and down to the beach they clamber around the tastiest evergreens, hop curiously onto big rocks, and randomly leap into the air in displays of sheer exuberance. All else falls away in these moments. In fact, I live for these moments, of winter sunlight and frolicking little goats, the peace of the natural world settling around us until it’s all there is.

Eleanor and Company

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Winter Walk with Goats 2

 

 

Goats on the Beach with Us

Rachel and Nate on Beach with Goats 2

Rachel with Goats on Beach

Inez on the Beach with Goats

Little Goat Boy

Jonah with Browsing Goats

Winona, Naiomi, and Friend

The Medicine Goats

 The medicine goats come,

bells tinkling.

They lead me to the hills,

pausing beside juniper,

to let the sun sink into their fur.

The medicine goats nibble the buds off raspberry bushes,

seek and pluck the bitters and thorns from amidst the grass.

They lead me to the shore,

where they balance on big rocks

and sniff at seaweed.

They invite me to sing,

while they curl into the bank

and chew their cuds.

The moment cracks open.

I stand, quivering

between bedrock and the billowing clouds.

Now, the crooked call of the raven above,

I twist and look up

to wingbeats,

the blue doorway of sky.

Now,

and now,

and now.

by Rachel Bell

Kids on Sunny Beach

 

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