Owaka, South Island, New Zealand

With a few warm smiles and some eye contact-cajoling, we won over the shearers, whose backbreaking labor was intensified by the light beaming through the dirty windows above. Hesitating at first, we overcame our uncertainty and jumped into the fold. Our “job” was to collect piles of sticky dread-like wool from the floor and cram them into the never-ending press, on which Farmer Jim would stomp with grit. He seemed indifferent to our hard work, but still friendly, outgoing and eager to have us stay at his farm if we were ever to make it back for a change of lifestyle.

SBR

 

Owaka, South Island, New Zealand

During a break from the shearing, Farmer Jim drove us and his wily dogs in his
pick-up to the top of a hill to show off his stunning 1,000-acre property in his typically unassuming manner. He instructed us to look for the colorful cockatoos he had spotted the day before, but I couldn’t peel my eyes off the view. From our vantage point, we saw rolling green hills give way to deep valleys, scattered forests and ultimately, the sparkling South Pacific. Maybe there’s something to
this farming life...

LSLS