Weather happens

 I was thinking of mowing today but weather happened.

Every year is different - the only constant is complaining about the weather 😁

Of the last 15 years, we've only had three years of consistent rains. The other years were dry summers and falls.

Some of us in the US experienced many years of drought while others get torrential rain and flooding.

I'd rather we get all things in moderation but sometimes weather has other ideas:

It can't rain forever, can it? 2022 style

I'm hoping that we don't get a repeat from a spring a few years ago but just when we get a day away from being able to get into the fields for some serious work, the sky opens up again. Although we could use the much needed rain to replenish the groundwater, the topsoil is saturated and flash flooding is a risk for the next day or two.

I've only been able to plant a very small test plot but my regular planting looks to be delayed for another week.

The big yellow splotch on the radar is headed our way.

Rainy day thoughts

The weather has turned towards its winter slide here and we won’t see a “warm” day for 5 months or more. “Warm” being a relative term because when you have -20 F, getting back to just above freezing feels warm in January/February.

As it rains today, the internal debate between grasshopper and ant rages. Cloudy/rainy days zap my energy and I sometimes fail in my motto of “get back to work.” When the cold from the north wind slaps me in the face or rain dribbles down the back of the neck, my desire to spend time outdoors evaporates quicker than I’d like to admit.

This is a day for “inside” work. There is some prep work that needs to be done before winter sets in (a win for the ant) or maybe we’ll pop some of the popcorn from this year and settle in for an old movie (a win for the grasshopper.)

At the end of the day, maybe both can take it as a win.

As the leaf hangs on to the tree or clings to the windshield, it reminds me to be resilient against forces that are meant to distract from the goals that are set ahead.

Yes, the irony of being distracted by a leaf on the windshield is not lost on me.

Enjoy the irony in life - it makes it interesting…

Leaf on the Wind(shield) - bonus points if you recognize the reference

 Linked at Poets and Storytellers United: Writers’ Pantry #93: NaNoWriMo Anyone?

My sky was blue

It was my sky that day. I claimed it as my own in all its deep blue horizons.

I could not see a single cloud in the sky this past Saturday while picking corn. An occasional streak of a jet interrupted the clear blue but those dissipated soon. Maybe the hand of God wiped away each line as an abomination against the heavens.

The winds from the northwest did not have a hint of an autumn breeze as the sun warmed the hills and the rows of corn that I wanted to finish that day. It rustled the dry stalks and blew the husks into the fence as I picked and shucked the ears. She carried the sounds of the birds away to the south where my feathered residents are headed now and I look towards March next year for their return.

But the sky…

If I could have shared my sky, I would have. A visitor to appreciate the blue (or lend a hand in the work) or a conversation that the wind could not interrupt. I was the only person there and from mid-morning, when I first realized the sky, until I packed up in the evening, not a single cloud drifted by.

But I did share the sky with the turkey vultures that were lifted high, circling together before heading southward as well. I told them, “Not today,” as I always do when I see them. Someday they may find me as a meal but not that day.

I will share a sight from the cabin. The cottonwoods that shaded the roof through the summer are losing their leaves now and soon their skeletons will remain during winter’s cold with only the white pines and the cedars as my companions there.

But for one day, my sky was blue.

 Posted at Poets and Storytellers United: Writer's Pantry #89: Ghost Walk

Monday Moms - evening stroll

 We have two mothers on the acreage now, one has twins and the other has a single energetic fawn:

It's much easier to walk now that I mowed the weeds around the garden area and the fruit trees. 

Most of May brought us rain nearly every day which caused nothing but weeds to grow. The last three weeks of dry days was broken on Friday with about an inch of needed rain and this year's plantings look better (and the weeds took off as well.) 

We still have dry days ahead and hauling water (along with cutting weeds) will be on the chore list.

Today's Forecast is...

 

Upon hearing the forecast

We've had snow on the ground since December 12th that is now approaching three feet of accumulation. Well, that has to go somewhere.

We currently have one pile about six feet tall, 12-15 feet wide at the base and forty feet long next to the homestead. With the tractor at the acreage and no snow blower available (they always break down anyway) there is only one method to move and pile up snow.

It's currently in my hand in the picture.

The neighbor and I have been trading labor. He digs me out and I dig him out - whoever gets to the snow first. This hasn't been entirely solo but close.

I don't mind shoveling snow that much. One gets into a rhythm and if you don't try to overexert yourself, you could get a lot of work done in the day and into the night. The frustrating part is when you have to move a pile of snow to make room for the next storm, then move that pile to make room for another storm and so on...

It's about three weeks until the red-winged blackbird shows back up. That is the day I consider it to be spring.

Maybe the snow will be gone by then.

Dust of Snow,  By Robert Frost

The way a crow

Shook down on me

The dust of snow

From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart

A change of mood

And saved some part

Of a day I had rued.

Snow Harvest

Snow crop, 2021

 

This year’s snow harvest started in mid-December and continues. Market prices have declined and the futures market has been steady to slightly higher for July but with no storage facilities, that would make it tough for us.

This winter’s harvest has been interrupted with machinery breakdowns and limited repair parts available which means a typical year for the most part. A neighbor, Don Wills, has taken multiple loads to markets as far south as Arkansas for weeks and we wish him well.

This is only the second season in the past seven winters that we’ve had a decent snow although the 2018-19 season was hampered by ice. The snow markets discounted several of our loads that year and times got a little tough during those cold nights.

Old Timers still talk about the snowstorm of ’71 where five-foot drifts made roads to the markets impassable for weeks. There was so much snow they refused all loads for nearly a month and the snow was left to melt in the fields. Another opportunity lost for many farmers and I’m reminded of Deke Williams losing his farm to auction that spring. 

The cold winds have come for all
The bankers demand their due
How can we pay the bills
When the hills of snow turned blue?*

*Ballad of the Lost Harvest – Hank Jenkins Band. From Bend Your Ear, 1973

 Another two inches of snow today – we’ve been blessed.

Taking our snow crop to market

 

 (An early April Fools Day?) 😉

 Linked to Poets and Storytellers United: Writers’ Pantry #53: The Bicentenary of Anne Brontë’s Birth

First snow of the season

First snow on the red maple. As you can see, not all of the leaves have fallen.

Tis the season

Hunting season, that is. Pheasant and deer seasons are beginning soon and it's time to wear appropriate colors:

I'm not hunting today but I don't want to have a near-sighted hunter mistake me for a deer cutting the grass. Blaze orange is in this time of year.

Morning Lament

This morning brought rain (again) as storm clouds stretched from west to east. But the sun breached the gap between earth's horizon and darkened rain-swelled clouds illuminating the valley in golden light.

The light of the eastern sun reflected orange to pink sky and from pink to grey in the clouds, continuing on darker across the sky until almost black in the west.

It was a colorful morning. But the color did not last long as the sun began to slip behind the clouds. A hard rain obscured its final minutes as the clouds finally covered its light. The rain fell harder as the rays were extinguished and muted for the day.

As the light faded I filled with regret as I reminded myself of missed sunrises and sunsets, of missed opportunities in nature or in our lives. But I realized that I nearly missed the moment of today's sunrise. I was filling my head with thoughts of the past and not of the present.

Luckily, I kicked myself in my mind and started to appreciate where I was. Ignoring the rain, I watched as the last sunbeams faded from sight behind the clouds and hoped for more sunrises to come.

Hummingbirds and rainbows

With the heavy subjects in my most recent posts, it's time for something on the lighter side (pun intended.)

After the storms over the past week, the rainbows are a welcome sight. The top picture has a faint rainbow to the left of one in the middle. It runs through the smudge on the windshield.

With fall here, there is an abundance of hummingbirds filling up before their migration. This one is taking a break but the deep buzz of its wings soon filled the air.

I hope this brightens up your day, if for just a little while.

All wet

I'm looking forward to a weekend getting some work done at the farm except a forecast of a wet weekend means it's a little harder to get much outside work done at the acreage. We have to see if parting clouds will allow a chance to finish a few lingering projects or repairs.

I'm used to storm clouds rolling in and the trail cameras feature a few good examples. I've been lucky enough to avoid some of the major storms that hit locally and stupid enough to drive through a few of them.

I could end up being all wet, like in the bottom picture. You never know what nature will bring.

Here's hoping all my readers have a good, and dry, weekend, otherwise here is Weathers by Thomas Hardy:

Weathers

This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest,'
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.

This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do I.

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/weathers/