Witches Broom and/or Mistletoe

A busy day we had. W. did hard work on cutting the laurel and rebuilding a bookshelf. I was busy implementing our emigration administration. In between we drove to B. in Westphalia. There among other things we made our small excursion to the goatfield.
We are used to bring some carrots over there.


One of those utter unsightly fields, where goats are held. And sometimes you can find there one or two poor looking donkeys. A pair of old half ruined apple trees, a ravaged shed. Nearby meanders a rural brook. A place of really Nothing. Especially on this brow grey drizzly February day. The road muddy. No donkeys to see. Only a few goats happy to see some carrot bringers coming.

One of the old trees had fallen down together with its collapsed support. No more apple reds to expect there in summer. But the small show will go on there. Our show. Perhaps we are the only ones visiting this goat-site. We love it, because of the softness of their noses, their appetite. And because of the high line of trees along the borders of the brook streaming around that field. Trees full of Witch-Brooms or Mistletoes as W. says. It is true in both ways: this whole Place of Nothing brings Luck and Happiness. If you can sense it.