While over at the other hay stack yard and implement yard, I saw
This darling little squirrel, gently sunning him/herself on a bare branch of a Tamarisk Tree–Salt Cedar is the common name.
Carefully Boomer and I left the area…allowing him/her the right to a bit of sunshine and a wee rest in the Spring-time air.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
The sound of the tractor adds to the un-silence of the land.
Terry planted the pinto beans five days ago, and today he is Mormon Creasing the field. By that he is taking taking the top off the row and smoothing out the top of the row so the little plants can work their way through a smaller amount of soil.
He also planted a new alfalfa field, which will make us two fields of alfalfa. Although, the new field won’t be ready until next year. There will be a possible cutting in September, but sometimes he doesn’t cut it; allowing the cows to graze it off instead.
This makes the whole farm in production. Finally. Everything is some form of growth or another.
The irrigation water sparkles and splashing it’s way down each furrow cool and free.
Tomorrow or Wednesday (depending on the weather) it will be time to cut the alfalfa
next to our house. Then the air will be scented with green alfalfa drying into lovely hay.
I will leave all the windows open in the house so the perfume fills our rooms and scents our sleep.
Busy times,
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Ordinary dreams are never clear–they are jumbles of this and that
As we sleep we walk in small places where the old gods used to roam
In that time long-before Christ came.
Those ancient gods of hills and woods and streams
We wander here and there in the dusk of our daily happenings, free from rituals, cities crowded with men
Where sometimes we walk thoughtlessly, as if we are kings, or fairies, or even riding on stars moving silently in the Universe
Sometimes we meet scary unknown things, which zip out of the air of our thoughts, rushing toward us like a demon felt only within the dark
Jerking awake, breathing like we are riding the wind—to realize we just dream.
Turning over…flipping the pillow to the cool side, we once more fall asleep and dream
A thoughtlessly as wee babe in a mother’s arms.
I hope your Sunday is a very good one!
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Well, this isn’t about the farm. But is about the farm yard, to be specific its about the farm yard drive way…
Yep the really nice FEDEX driver showed up. I’m always cautious…there is a mean UPS driver so I take my time warming up to these drivers. But this guy is nice. He always wants to make friends. Then he hands me a cookie before he walks to the house to give mom her package.
That’s about the farm yard road.
Out on the ditch bank there are lots of little raccoon critters. We have a huge group of them. Sometimes they travel all the way into the farm yard and skitter around out back where the hay is always stacked.
I like to go out and see who is there. A couple of the raccoons are my friends. We ‘do’ things together.
I go with Mom all the time. We go change water. We also go over to my sister’s so I can see my dog cousins,
and we head out and check on the fences —
good fences make good neighbors, Mom always says.
Mindy cat is a farm cat. She is really good at catching mice. Really good. She sometimes eats so many she herks them back up. I just sniff the herk, but—not to my taste. I leave it there until Mom comes along and picks it up with a shovel.
I don’t know what Mom does with it, but…something. Anyway, it’s gone.
And the wind…don’t get me started about the wind…it’s been so strong that it lifts my ears right up in the air. Mom says I look cute with my ears blowing in the wind.
Well, that my farm report. Mom and I hope you have a good weekend.
Boom Beaglie Brown a.k.a. Sherlock Boomer
There is nothing like having the visit of a grandchild…
They bring back those things you have forgotten how to do
That shining, excited, gaiety…which lives in motion in youth.
Then it was time to leave us and go spend the weekend with Aunt Kimi and Uncle Cliff….bouncing, bouncing all the way.
From our world to your heart,
Linda Brown
So do you talk to the stars?
Sometimes I do…they are so beautiful, so amazing, so glittering, so vast.
Sometimes I stand on the ditch bank…my arms flung wide and tell our farm…how beautiful it is.
Even after a long day of working in my yard, helping with the irrigation, cleaning the house, painting fences…when the pain in my arms and back almost blind me
I still feel the most profound gift of this amazing place where Terry and I live.
Sometimes the breathtaking life surrounding us –is like a spell… The bats flitting in the gathering gloom, the last of the Barn Swallows feeding on the mosquitoes, the stars just starting to appear in the darkening heavens, the soil thriving and growing plants, the plants forming from little seeds,
It all weaves a pattern, like a spell.
From my world to your heart,
Linda
“And I learned what is obvious to a child. That life is simply a collection of little lives, each lived one day at a time. That each day should be spent finding beauty in flowers and poetry and talking to animals. That a day spent with dreaming and sunsets and refreshing breezes cannot be bettered. But most of all, I learned that life is about sitting on benches next to ancient creeks with my hand on her knee and sometimes, on good days, for falling in love.”– Nicholas Sparks
In reality…everyone’s world, everyone’s day is never made of empty spaces.
It’s made up tiny (but massive) jobs, tasks and steps undertaken here and there
Each job feeling twice as big in the beginning of the task
Then gradually taking shape; finally the whole process over and done.
Then there is the end of the day. Glittering thick with orange and red sunlight, as the night creeps up from the land; finally touching the still warm sky, brilliant light filling air with dreams!
From my world to your heart,
Linda
The wind has been terrible again…50 m.p.h. gusts, my poor plants are feeling crushed and flatted and battered and beaten.
Even though the winds have been blowing, like God is angry, everything once invisible has become visible in the sunlight
The soft clouds dance and flicker through out the day
While the dry, dry soil gives us visual belief in the unseen wind.
More and more we are seeing the summer birds returning. Breathing brightness into the sunlight
Filling out the tapestry of grass, trees, leaves, flowers, bumble and honey bees
Even though the spinning pounding wind as been most unusual…
The beauty of spring fills our eyes, our hearts, our souls and the growing newness of the earth!
From my world to your heart,
Linda
“The Great Spirit is in all things, he is in the air we breath. The Great Spirit is our Father, but the Earth is our Mother. She nourishes us, that which we put into the ground she returns to us….” — Big Thunder (Bedagi) Wabanaki Algonquin
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to each and everyone of you!
Love,
Linda
Nothing much is happening here. No adventures, no real worries, nothing that a good beagle can’t deal with.
Just Ordinary Days.
We like ordinary days.
Ordinary days…don’t have big problems to solve,
Or scary coyotes to deal with,
Or something hard to handle.
They just have the ordinary things to do:
Go with Mom and do whatever she is doing. Which means I follow behind and sit and watch Mom, while she does what she does
Or I sniff around getting the news, while mom does whatever she does
Anytime Mom gets on the four-wheeler I’m right there to go with her, all wadded up on the back seat with my body touching her body so she knows I’m safe.
Sometimes I sit up straight and help Mom drive…I lend her my nose so she can go where the best smells are.
Then when she is ‘doing’ something out on the farm, I take off and check out all the happenings going on from the last time I was up there two hours ago.
Sometimes I scare up a pheasant or two
Sometimes some Quail, or rabbits. Or the summer geese. But I never chase any of them. Mom say’s I’m a strange beagle, beagle usually like to hunt animals.
Well, not this beagle. I just like to gather news.
Once Mom left me up at the Upper End (because I didn’t want to go back home just then).
It was HOT walking all the way back home. I need to remind myself when Mom calls and I hear the four-wheeler start…I NEED to get back to Mom. The walk home this time of year is long and hot!
But the most wondrous time of ‘just ordinary days’
is when the UPS driver comes down the long lane to our farm house!
That is the best barking joy I can ever think of! (and if it’s the nice UPS driver, I always get a treat!)
Boomer
