The Balloërveld flock

Shepherd Albert Koopman has donned his shorts, encouraged by the summer temperatures here in rural Drenthe. The sheep are stuck with their wool, picking their way across the heath. They’re walking in the footsteps of prehistoric man, although they can’t know that. The burial mounds a little further ahead serve as a centuries old memento mori. The sheep are obviously content. White, black and brown co-exist in harmony. Every now and then the sheepdog steps in to play the role of good-natured policeman.Effortlessly he keeps the multitude together. The shepherd feels he’s in heaven.