Soon, very soon, the falling leaves will hold mastery over us
Drifting down silently, laying a colorful mantle upon everything.
Autumn is in the air.
From my world to your heart,
It wasn’t so long ago, the spray plane would pass over our farm on its daily routine
We think we know where Mindy is…she has left us to go to another neighbor. He is a person who really likes cats and seems to have a few of them. (Which is nice, because our area gets lots of cats who have been thrown away.)
(See all the birds sitting on the tassels?)
But we saw her (or a cat that looks like her) in his arms, getting lots of pets.
I guess she didn’t like the idea of TLC Cai-Cai; choosing to go live with the man who doesn’t have a TLC Cai-Cai.
Of course, I’m not sure it’s her, but I hope so. For her sake.
We are in a massive rush to finish up the second field of alfalfa.
Terry is out baling now, then this afternoon we will haul it in
They are telling us a very large monsoonal storm is due
Heavy enough rain that the 1-70 Corridor through Glenwood Spring Canyon will probably be closed again.
Anyway, time is flying by—
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
I seemed to have reached a point of ‘understanding’ in my life
I think it is the place we (as humans) have always meant to be
Where we finally realize…just like we ‘knew’ when we freshly arrived into this world of ours
That each day gives you meaning. You need to do more than exist, to never take fortune (luck) for granted
That our lives, each and every one of us, is the prayer — the consequence of being alive
Then by the time elderly age is a reality, the human mind realizes the profoundly magical is made up of the very glorious ordinary moments of a very common day.
Once that is understood, the elderly feel like being — grand, extraordinary, marvelous, terrific, wonderful, tremendous, open to experiences and the excitement of being alive!
From my heart to your world,
The farm at twilight sends out a deep hush
Which says: “Step lightly…listen carefully…
The Swallows catching supper lend a peacefulness to the cooling air.
The plants stir gently in the gentle evening breeze
Glittering moonlight shatters the gloom sending waves of silver–much kinder than the sun, slower…a different rhythm– bringing on that space of time called night.
It’s that time of year….
When all of spring and summer come together
Third cutting of hay is cut and drying…Terry is raking and turning the rows even as I type away.
Soon, very soon…maybe tomorrow or the next day…it all depends on the weather, he will pull the pinto beans.
The corn has passed the blister stage, moving into the dough. After that it will be ready to ‘dry down’.
We are on the last little bits of irrigation. No more changing water on the pinto beans, only one more good soaking of the alfalfa, after the last bale has been hauled and stacked (possibly two if the fall is terribly dry—alfalfa can’t go into the winter dry or the crop will die.)
All that is left is watering the corn, by the end of September (in 30 days, maybe a few more, but not many-maybe even less) the irrigation water will be turned off to our farm.
We will be done.
After that we wait…until the last of October or the first of November when the harvest of the field corn begins. Those that have ensilage or chopp’n corn, or silage (it’s all one in the same) will start filling the silos this week.
The stretch for harvest has begun!
Then winter’s silence will descend.
But not for awhile.
Not for awhile.
Not just yet.
The gift of the spring and summer’s work will be collected. The work is has begun!
We will stretch ourselves thin, eat on the run, get up before dawn and settle back down way after dusk. It will look easy to those driving by—people who have moved to the country to get away from the crowds.
I suppose it is, after all these years…it’s because we practice all the time. The continuing education credits come when this year’s paycheck comes in. (We are paid once a year for pinto beans and corn. The hay brings in small checks as the bales are sold.)
Harvest! It is what we work for— the accumulation of the year.
Your friend on a farm in Western Colorado,