My name is Linda Brown. I live on a farm on the western slope of Colorado, in the high mountain desert. I’ve lived here all my life, hailing back four generations on my father’s side. Today I blog about our farm, the everyday activities that keep the farm going. I also write about my thoughts and dreams and goals
A lovely heavy rain came in yesterday, bringing with it cooler temperatures.
We slept with only one window opened last night and woke to a beautiful wet morning.
Other signs of change include: yellowing of leaves on the cottonwood trees, the pinto beans getting ripe, the corn starting to dent, golden rod blooming, and the rabbit brush in bloom.
As soon as the earth gets dry enough and the rain leaves our area the third cutting of hay will begin. Which should be Wednesday or Thursday of this week.
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Our sunset last night was just a dot of color the clouds were so thick, and the sunrise this morning was of a huge red orb peaking though the cherry trees. The birds are still here, a hummer greeted me early, early, as I went out to the chicken house, and songs were filling the sky after a very wet and LOUD/CRASHING/FLASHING night.
Good Morning everyone! I hope you have a wonderful day!
My four-wheeler didn’t want to start last night so the dogs and I walked up to the middle field to help irrigate. I have to go slow as Fuzzy just can’t walk fast but he does so ever want to come along.
We were taking our time, Fuzzy and I, Boomer was searching out something in the corn field.
To get to the pinto bean field by Misty’s we must go through two corn fields, to get to the pinto bean field where the water is flowing. We need to walk along the bean field by Misty’s and our largest corn field, it’s a walk, but not bad and one I have done more than once.
The evening was starting on, the day had been hot, and Fuzzy and I were taking our time, when I suddenly knew…
a shift has occurred with our time.
Something about the air, the look of the sky, how the plants feel and smell and the soil underfoot–if I didn’t know better I would have thought that this evening, this walk through the crops, was an evening in September.
There was just that sort of feel about it.
I stopped and checked an ear of corn…the kernels are starting to dent…
When I got to the first bean field I noticed that there are yellow bottom leaves showing up everywhere
The weeds even look fallish…
Goldenrod is in full bloom and the rabbit brush is blooming
All the farmers and ranchers around us are saying the same thing…something is afoot…everything is about three weeks early.
Will we have an early freeze? Are we going to have a hard winter?
Who knows only time will tell.
But last night, both Terry and I, felt a subtle shift on farm.
This looks like a repeat of the last post, but really it isn’t. The day clouded up in the afternoon and then we saw showers playing across the Uncompahgre Plateau.
We had been sweltering in the middle of the corn field hoping some clouds would come in from somewhere.
When they did they blocked the sun which cooled us down, even if the rain stayed far away.
Then the clouds cleared of the moisture
And a little wind sprung up pushing the moisture and the cooling clouds in a different direction, leaving behind
a delightful couple of rainbows!
A gift from above….clouds, moisture, the heat from the sun and the corn blocked, and the gift of promise and hope!
After lunch we decided that we would go to Hanging Lake….a short drive out of Glenwood Springs going toward Denver.
The trail to Hanging Lake is plainly marked with a nice walking path to the trail head. We met many, many, many people either going up the 1.2 mile trail or coming back.
This is something I have always wanted to do, but we just never have. My parents did it when they were about my age, Momma was 63 and Daddy 66, they delighted in seeing this incredible natural wonder.
Several of Kelly’s friends had walked up to the lake so making the decision to go was easy.
If you are EVER in the Glenwood Springs Canyon area I HIGHLY recommend you stop, walk to the top and visit this amazing lake. The hike is free. You will not be alone as there are lots of people going up and coming down.
I took way too many photos so I’m going to only give you a tiny idea of the grandeur of this place.
There are 7 bridges and several water falls.
The two oldest grandchildren ran all the way up and all the way down. Tally walked both ways by herself, never once crying or asking to be carried.
We more than enjoyed the waterfalls
Some small and some large.
There are sign markers letting you know how far you have traveled
The closer you get to the lake the flora changes and you start to see ferns…which are rare in our part of the world.
Then suddenly you are there!
A magical world, making one think of fairies and elves and unicorns.
The water is so clear you can see the fish.
Not many people get to walk under a waterfall…but maybe, just maybe, if you are lucky you get too.
Back at the real world we were met with cars and roads and well, reality.
I encourage everyone to walk this short distance of 1.2 miles at least once in their life.
As the train would come to crossing we would hear the whistle blow…of course it would bring to mind that song by Hank Williams “I heard that Lonesome Whistle Blow…
I HEARD THAT LONESOME WHISTLE BLOW
I was riding Number Nine,
Heading South from Caroline.
I heard that lonesome whistle blow.
I didn’t trouble had to roam,
I left my gal, I left my home.
I heard that lonesome whistle blow.
Just a kid acting smart,
I went and broke my darling’s heart.
I guess I was too young to know.
They took me off the Georgia Main,
Locked me to a ball and chain.
I heard that lonesome whistle blow.
All alone I bear the shame,
I’m a number, not a name.
I heard that lonesome blow.
All I do is sit and cry,
When that evening train goes by.
I heard that lonesome blow.
I’ll be locked here in this cell,
‘Till my body’s just a shell;
And my hair turns whiter than snow.
I’ll never see that gal of mine,
I’m in Georgia doing time.
I heard that lonesome whistle blow.
Not the most romantic of views, but still exciting! But in our case it isn’t a lonesome sound, but the sound of
The Train Song by Phil Rosenthal
The train is rolling down the track,
Listen to the wheels go clickety clack,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
The engine’s up at the front of the train,
Pulling all the cars through the sun and the rain,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
When the engineer pulls the throttle down,
And the whistle starts to blow,
You can hear that sound for miles around,
And it lets all the people know,
That the train is rolling down the track,
Listen to the wheels go clickety clack,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
Now we sit here in the passenger car,
And the freight car’s next in line,
And way in back is the little caboose,
Rolling along behind.
And people stand by the railroad side,
And wave to us as we go by,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
The train is rolling down the track,
Listen to the wheels go clickety clack,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
Life on a Colorado Farm 