A light drizzle is surrounding me as I wander through the gardens cutting flowers to put in the farmstand. It is sunrise, only the sun isn’t shining. The humidity seems high and the gnats are horrible and the mosquitoes are biting. I’m hot and my body heat is steaming up my glasses so that I can’t see. I couldn’t be happier. Birds are busily going about their morning routines, the chickens are still in the coops, protesting loudly that they want out. A large red-tailed hawk swooped down behind the big hen house and went after a nest of Robins. The tranquil bliss was brought to an end. The hawk has been hanging around here for about a week. Most disturbing to our little piece of paradise.
A few years ago, our friend Donna, passed away after a battle with cancer.
You can feel it.
The earth is ready to shake off her winter blanket. There are quiet stirrings and subtle shuffling of the layers.
The robins are singing sweetly at sunup.
The scent in the air is different too.
It’s raining again, which is better than snow, but still is it ever going to stop? Mr. Cottage said it feels muted today.
That grey cast has wrapped around our little house and it feels like no matter how many lights we turn on, we can’t overpower the gloom.
It’s a good day for snuggling in the old patchwork quilt.
I was contemplating eating a second pudding cup.
Mr. Cottage said he wouldn’t judge me if I did.
Hope Y’all are well and had a good holiday.
Greetings from all the farm critters.
It’s here. Snow and the colors of the season. Continue reading
Brilliant sunshine, fallen leaves crispy and crunchy under my feet, heavy with a coating of frost, a thousand diamonds shimmer in the grass. An owl screeches high in the treetops. A donkey is braying loudly and the chickens are beginning their morning chatter. Swoosh swoosh a flock of buzzards soars overhead.
I fumbled around in the darkness, feeling for a flashlight. It’s 4:30 am, the power has gone out and it is twenty degrees outside. The dogs need to go out to the bathroom. Peanut can no longer navigate the stairs on her own, so I clumsily balance the flashlight, the dog and me down the stairs and out the door. Carefully, trudging down the frost-coated porch steps in my fashion forward fuzzy slippers and robe, so as not to face plant me and the dog.