Our Farming Hearts—-Thursday, April 28, 2016

Posted on April 28, 2016 by Dayphoto

Yesterday was another chill spring day of damp and moving air.

Terry continued planting the corn, then worked on the pinto bean fields. We are close to starting water on those fields, close, but not yet.

We are still experiencing lots of trash in the canals. It’s a daily job to keep the water ways clear. We will fight this trash until the middle of June. By that time all the fields above us will be planted, all the canals and laterals will be open, and the wind should have died down.

I’ve enjoyed my series of photos of the April full moon. They give me a small bubble of happiness whenever I look at them. What is so delightful is the moon really is tinged with pink. Therefore, the full moon of April is called the Pink Full Moon. Perfect I do believe!

While Terry planted I filled up several buckets, of our saved shelled corn from last year; soaked the corn in water for a couple of hours then took a bucket out to the end of the field (which I will do for every field) and started scattering the seed.

We do this because the pheasants LOVE scratching up the sprouting corn seed and eating them. If I can give them enough soft (easy to get too) corn they will leave the fields alone.

I came across one of the males running along in front of me as I worked. It was blowing a little hard so he thought he could out-run me instead of trying to fly into the wind.

Giving up running he took off; just watching him go gave me a breathless feeling! What a beautiful bird!

Although, it wasn’t raining right on us, huge rain chuts were drenching parts of the Uncompahgre Plateau. (Un-come-pah-gray—accent on the pah)

The sheer ordinariness of the day fills our farmer’s heart with good!

Your friend on a Western Colorado farm,

Linda

Spring is Breathing Restless—Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Posted on April 26, 2016 by Dayphoto

Terry planted corn, in another huge wind storm complete with rain. It couldn’t be helped. The ground was just at that ‘perfect place’ — not to wet and not to dry. To wait any longer and the tiny window of opportunity would be gone.

The air was sharp with ozone and wet dirt, extremely cold against my face, when I delivered sacks of seed to him, or to go get him for lunch.

Boomer would be shivering by the time we got back to the house.

It blew and rained off and on all day. Then cleared late in the evening to allow my lovely sour cherries to freeze (?) I sure hope not. I didn’t check the temperature this morning. It was what it was.

But it was cold, so fresh and sharp that it tickled your lungs to breath…by five o’clock I had to start up the woodstove; the heat felt lovely. It’s still going today and it looks like I will be filling the woodbox for at least five or six more days and nights.

Sigh! This spring is very restless; very wet and cold and windy.

We are still creating and setting dams. Two more and we will be done for the year.

This morning I woke the normal silence of the house. House silence isn’t like farm silence– farm silence is full of winds that whisper, the flutter and swish of birds, and the vast sounds of the sky.

Nor is it the disturbed silence of town–the swooshing of tires passing, the slamming of a far away door, a roaming and uneasy always constant movement.

The silence of the house is the dim glow of first light coming through the window…a gradual lighting of the night into day, the feel of slumbering thoughts, of those still sleeping, the pad of Boomer’s feet as he follows me into the kitchen.

The tea kettle’s boiling water signals the day has begun!

From my world to your heart!

Linda

A Wee Walk About—Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Posted on February 2, 2016 by Dayphoto

Our air started chilling down on Saturday night…growing thick with mystery and the promise of snow. The gray-pink clouds began enfolding the earth, as the sun set assuring us of a blanket white enchantment.

Sunday the snow started falling; winter’s promise was still alive.

Terry and I spent Sunday warm and safe. Although, a little on the bored side.

Boomer and I took a wee walk in the soft, muffled air. Boomer doesn’t really walk with me, there is always so much more to see and do than stay right by my side. Of course, now that cows are here he tends to not drift TOO far away!

Waking on the farm is to walk to the sound of silence — for even the cows are quiet in the falling snow.

Walking is satisfying, getting outside is delicious.

Monday morning the snow was thick and lush and rich. As I shoveled the snow off the sidewalks there was only my footprints, Boomer’s and the cats! (I enjoyed being the only human foot prints in the yard. 🙂 )

Snow! That gift of water for the spring, summer and fall!

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,

Linda

The World Settled into Silence—Thursday, November 5, 2015

Posted on November 5, 2015 by Dayphoto

It rained off and on all day yesterday, and way into the night.

We actually woke up to rain. The air rich with the smell of ozone and the dried leaves, corn stalks and ears; now absorbed with water.

Then there came a feel of snow in the air.

Although, the sky was the same leaded gray the air itself had changed. A heaviness and feeling of something different; colder/sharper.

Silence, no small voices of birds or rustling of little creatures, as the crystals in the clouds changed from water to ice.

Then it came, sudden and hushed, flurries of little tiny noiseless flakes, whirling out of the air.

The sun is out now (as I type), the sounds of water returning, running off our metal roof, the snow is melting adding to the mud, flatting the fallen leaves.

The weather people were right. An early winter storm has arrived.

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,

Linda

It’s Raining Here—Monday, October 26, 2015

Posted on October 26, 2015 by Dayphoto

It’s raining here….again. We were just about to dry out.

Our drive way is a river, our lane is a lake

But inside we are dry, the wood stove is going, my wood supply is protected, my kenneling is dry.

Your friend on a very soggy western side, of the Rocky Mountain Divide, farm

🙂

Linda

It’s Raining Here—-Monday, October 19, 2015

Posted on October 19, 2015 by Dayphoto

It’s raining! Lovely drops of rich moisture, turning the drying corn a golden color.

When you go outside the air smells good. It’s a different smell from spring and summer rain.

You can smell the drying corn as absorbs the moisture, the earth as the dust is settling and the rich odor of the leaves as they are pushed from the trees, landing with little pitter and patters on the grass, the sidewalk, against the house, on the roof of the buildings.

Rain! We have been needing it.

As far as Terry and I know all the crops are now in…the hay is cut and stored, the pinto beans harvested, the ensilage/silage chopped and packed into the pits, and the onions are in the sorting sheds. The sweet corn harvested ended on Labor Day.

The warm autumn days are starting to give way (now) to the cooler and wetter weather. The forerunner to that four-letter word, which starts with s. (Although, snow IS an important component for survival.)

Soon, very soon, the corn will dry to the perfect moisture content and we, along with many others, will begin the last harvest of the year….pick’n corn.

Until then…everyone is enjoying the rain.

As always your friend on a Western Colorado Farm,

Linda

Yesterday’s Storm–Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Posted on August 26, 2015 by Dayphoto

Last evening it looked like a storm (just might possibly) come in. The sky changed, the feel to air changed, it smelled like rain.

Then it blew away. Still today the haze is not AS bad.

I sure hope we (meaning everyone who is in dire need of rain) gets some soon. Rain to stop all the forest fires, to green up the earth, to clean the skies, and to bring life back on the land.

Your friend,

Linda

A Soft Morning–Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Posted on July 21, 2015 by Dayphoto

It rained during the night, leaving the earth moist and damp with a faint chill of autumn in the air.

Fall is just an illusion, for tomorrow the heat of summer returns, gradually bringing with it triple digit weather—perfect for cutting the alfalfa to make into hay.

But today …. today Terry is cultivating the pinto beans and I am getting closer to finishing painting. (I have the top of the house done and part of the north side. All that is left is the large area of east side and a section of the front/north porch.)

A very ordinary day! But the sheer ordinariness is comforting in and of itself.

Your friend,

Linda

The Open Heart of my Life—Thursday, July 16, 2015

Posted on July 16, 2015 by Dayphoto

First light—-one would think that the air is silent but it isn’t, not at all.

The are birds calling, water rushing in the canal–

10:00 a.m. There is a rich green smell of the alfalfa field as the day heat up.

The birds and the insects are full voice, by this time, and the air dances with life.

Clouds scuttled over the top of us, causing the sun to highlight Hay Stack Mountain way at the end of Roubioux Canyon. When Terry and I were young the old-timers would tell that Hay Stack Mountain was scared to the Ute Indians. And (if) you were to climb to the top there you would see many Indian artifacts. Neither Terry nor I have ever been on Hay Stack Mountian. The road is closed to motorized vehicles, one must either walk or ride a horse.

Coming home (from a magnificent meal with our daughter and son-in-law who live in Grand Junction, Colorado) we drove in a rainstorm complete with a rainbow.

Colorado rainstorms can be abrupt and vigorous—the wind blows in black clouds– then they break dropping water in a rush.

Quickly the storm moved toward the north and the east…leaving us with a sky full of vivid color.

Your friend

Linda

Storms —Thursday, July 9, 2015

Posted on July 9, 2015 by Dayphoto

All day the clouds shifted here and there. Sometimes dropping rain, moving on, gathering again, lashing out

thunder, lighting, wind… the violence of each passing storm was exhilarating!

The earth, our crops, even myself sighed with relief. Later in the night, well, actually early, early in the morning, the skies cleared and the stars came out.