Monday, March 02, 2009
...inconvenient.
This was the view from my bedroom when I woke up at the crack of noon today. I went to bed early--around 2 a.m. so got up earlier than usual. The snow that fell most of yesterday that then turned to freezing rain and froze overnight made everything sparkle. I doubt I'll even make it to the mailbox to check mail today.
There's a slick little stretch of winding road not far from the house that keeps everyone locked up here when it ices. Not sure why--it may have a wet spring that drains onto it, but when the weather is like this it's a solid sheet of ice. It's our own little luge for 4WD vehicles--'cause even that won't do you no good there. So we are trapped here.
But I love the cleanness of everything when it's frozen. So stark. The switch grass in the pasture, feathering ghosts of this past summer, bend heads to the ground, curving tortuously. The wind has whipped them into that position and the ice has bound them. They wait for me--or someone--to come and free them with blades or fire.
But I didn't want to wake up this morning. I feel better after a shower. The dogs are inside. The sun is shining, melting what it can. 36 degrees.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Yesterday we had one of our little blizzards. The wind drove the snow in horizontal sheets across the pasture. They tell me a "clipper" came through.
The temperatures went down to 20 degrees F. last night and this morning the ground is sparkly and crunchy. It hurts my eyes to look at it. All of the water for the goats is frozen solid and they skittered off the mountain down to the creek to drink. I can't even prise the lids off of the feed bins. At least I don't have any chickens right now. I'd be hauling hot water up to them about now if I did.
Leonard, my beautiful buck, is not feeling well. I tried to catch him to bring him up to the house to medicate him, but he skittered off with the rest of the herd by the time I collected a lead to pull him to the house. I hope he makes it back okay. Some goats do not overwinter here well. I'm worried that I may lose him. Generally, if they can make it through one winter here, they can make it through all of them.
Blinkin' is still on the porch threatening to kid at any moment. I'm tempted to release her back to the herd, but her bag has filled up in the back. Surely it can't be long now.
The seasons are bi-polar here. Each one containing sweetness and sorrow. Winter contains more sorrow and glints with danger, while the summer hides her sweet snakes under a pretty package. I try not to judge. I know they each contain equal packages of dark and light.
But the cold. The cold makes it seem so dark.
