Whisperings on the Land—- Sunday, December, 22, 209

I love to take walks….walking here and there; day and night

There is always something interesting to see, like this perfect circle of ice

Or the geese wing swooshing over-head

We finally made it to these two days and nights, when the day grows the shortest it possibly can, stop to regroup, then head back toward warmer days and shorter nights.

So for a short little while, the mornings will come later

And the nighttimes earlier…

That’s okay.

Time is etched into each and every day, rippling and eddying in a hypnotic current we can all enjoy if we just take a walk.

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,



Simple Stuff—Monday, October 23, 2017

Terry is down having the corn checked for moisture…we are getting close now.  Soon it will be harvest time, and the completion of this years growing season. We aren’t there just yet….but ever so close.

Our days are growing shorter and shorter, November is fast upon us and the time change from Daylight back to regular time.

So far the days are golden and peaceful. The nights are contented with warm sounds of sap popping as the logs burn in the woodstove; two sleeping cats on Terry, and a Beagle next to me, while I work on a needlepoint project.

The dark of the moon has passed; growing now toward the glittering brightness of the full moon. I love night walks in the moonlight.

A wee pause in the growing season.  Then the last busy push of corn harvest.

But not today…not just yet.

We tarry a little longer.

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,


Noctivagator—That’s Me—Monday, May 15, 2017

Sara from Punkin’s Patch…… sent me this tiny bit of information:  Word of the day: “noctivagant” – of a person or creature, given to roaming & ranging in the darkness; night-wandering (noun “noctivagator”).

I guess that’s right!  I do love my little walks at night!  🙂

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,




The Adventures of Fuzzy and Boomer on Friday — Here and There and Everywhere

The canal in the spring, summer, and fall is just way too full of fast water for any of us to enjoy!





What snow we have melts and forms really nice ice slicks that we get to play on.


The grandkids walk all the way over (From Their House to Our House) in the canal!


They even bring their little friends.  Once here my Mom gives them snacks enough they can have a ‘picnic’ down at the bridge or along the canal someplace flat. Fuzzy and I go with them.  Hank is along so we have lots of things we can do while the kids are slipping and sliding and singing along.

(We always figure out how to get part of the picnic food, so the trip is really yummy).


Even Sam-the cat goes with us!


On the way back Fuzzy and I spend extra time checking out the news along the banks…hummm here is a muskrat hole—better let Dad know—tons of mice have scampered here and there and everywhere—oh! The neighbor down the road, who leaves their dog out in all sorts of weather, has a cat…yep…the cat was up here searching for mice…lots and lots of news, you see.


Last night I—me, sweet little Boomer-Boo—got myself in pickle!


See a new fox came up the canal…I could smell him here and there and everywhere; while Mom and Fuzzy walked I followed the fox.  I went a long ways, yes I heard Mom hollering for me…but HOW COULD I LEAVE THIS EXCITING SMELL?!?!


So I went down the canal and then trotted down the road, (Mom called several more times) then I trotted back up the road, when I figured out that the fox had just passed back down the canal.  I spent lots of time out there.


I’m sure he was interested in finding Tom…but Tom is locked up in a warm poultry house so the fox’s trip was useless.

When I got back to the house, the outside lights were off, the house lights were out and Fuzzy was inside sound asleep.


I jumped up on the door and peered inside…nope, nobody up.

I had to go sleep in the snug-a-bug-doghouse.

I had to sleep out there from one in the morning until Mom got up at five.  She didn’t say anything except: “Boomer!  Would you like to come in”?

I was awake in a flash…and in the house before Fuzzy even opened his eyes.

The trip around the canal and down the road was exciting, but sleeping in the snug-as-a-bug doghouse just okay.

When I got inside, Fuzzy asked me if I was ever going to figure out how to not stretch things out too far.

I really, really don’t know.