More productions shots, masquerading as tourist photos.
Every time I have been here (over the past 4 years) there is an appliance or car part in this location, which is difficult to get to via meadow, the way I arrived – my amateur anthropological skills lead me to conclude there is a local custom of pitching broken possessions off the cliff. I am unsure whether this practice is related to the presence of Labatt’s cans, also found at this location.
Sheep conference, the purpose of which will be revealed…
Directly opposite from the sheep, their ocean view. You can’t tell in this photo but there were whales surfacing here.
I am trying to appear disinterested, the sheep are not. There are at least three in this photo, you can see their ears over the hill line. They were watching me like hawks, or like sheep.
These sheep watched me boldly as I approached, then headed straight for me, I bolted. I know they are vegetarians, but that wouldn’t stop them from running me off the cliff. And who would hear me scream, besides the other sheep, whales, seagulls, mice, wildflowers, and a pony?
Even more sheep when I turned the corner. I can hear them bleating in every direction.
And over a cliff was the largest gathering.
Suddenly they all stood up and started to chase me, the whole gaggle, pod, herd, fleet, flock, GANG, what do you call them, murder? I hightailed it out of there, precariously with gear through swamp and over unstable rocks.
The pitcher plant, which I know grows here, eludes me…