I can’t remember now, which day was so full of wind we had trouble setting the dams in the dirt ditch, maybe it was Thursday or Friday — when you don’t work for someone else each day tends to be the same as the day before and the day following.

Anyway we had a big wind for along time.  It was cold at different points, warmer at other points.

The canals filled up with trash — enough that the ditch company had to come back through with their equipment to clean them out.

Boomer was deeply enchanted with having them come through

The wind actually picked up his ears, for him, as he ran forward to ‘save the farm’  I was delighted at his cute ears flying in the wind!

Wind of that magnitude (55 m.p.h. gusts) causes us to go out several times at night —keeping the canal in it’s banks, the irrigation water in the proper ditches and the furrows going straight.  All without weeds and debris, to choke everything off and cause floods. Runs like this give us a sense of absolute security.

Then the wind leaves, pushing its way onto other parts of the country.  The setting sun lights up the water with jewels; the flat lands and canyons below our mesa shadowed in deep indigo and purple, the edges of the Uncompahgre rich in the color of rubies.

Terry and I share a deep contentment, of work well done, as we finish up in the company of the sky.

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,

Linda