During the days spent in Mongolia I was able to experience life outside the world of visiting gers & taking tea. I had chances at managing flocks, milking goats & lending a hand in the process of felt making. As simple as these involvements were, they were times of both joy & sadness in knowing I was just "passing through" & largely unskilled in what was a normality for them. . Tim, having only organised distances that needed to be completed each day & sometimes special detours to places of significance of great beauty, allowed for the beauty of the spontaneity to occur. Pictured is a story of one of these moments. . In the first photo, you can see sheep & goats out near the river. There was a ger to the left & this was what caught my eye first. I expected to head right down to it but Tim sat down instead, looking down on the animal herd & observing the scene in silence. A nomad was picking sheep out from the group, clipping excess wool from underneath their tails, whilst his children were keeping the herd together. The silence lasted for a few minutes before Tim suddenly stood up & said "Let's go help". I kicked myself at not even thinking that I could be involved, but this was a different world. This was not Australia where if I jumped a fence & started helping a farmer round up his herds, I'm sure I would get more than strange looks. Here we slid right into the action, preventing the animals from splitting from the main body, with no obstruction. No raised eyebrows nor harsh words to mind our own business. It was a comfortable transition from observing to physical involvement. . Tsengee surprised me in the confusion by suddenly dumping a baby goat in my hands, my reaction being to yell "Tsengee, what do I DO with it?!". He spent the afternoon jokingly letting me know that I had been gifted a goat but I had rudely returned it to the flock. . The boy pictured is 6 years old & I marvelled as he tried tirelessly to catch a sheep on own, his exhaustion showing as he sits on one of his successful catches. He looked younger still as he struggled to mount his horse, but yet he rode way expertly (with no saddle) back to the ger where we were welcomed in for tea. . . .