The Joys of Snow

 

Woke in the morning, looked out the window and the ground was dappled with frosty flakes of snow.  Large flakes were a falling, size of quarters and bigger.  Gently they tumbled earth ward.  Sinking into the warm earth, blotting the grasses and flowers.  Fall is here.

So many people carp, gripe and complain about winter, yet it is part of God’s creation and I really don’t want to make him upset.  Plus I enjoy the white stuff, I rejoice in for it is what replenishes life.  The solid liquid awaiting the spring warmth.  I can wear some different clothes, stay warm and go forth and partake of God’s gift.

A light dusting making new clothing of white mantles to wear for a bit. 

I know there are those who do not like snow and they tend to live in areas where it does not snow.  They have their hot summers, swelter in the humidity or eat the sands of the dessert. For them that is where they want to be.  These are the choices we have in life and many exercise their God given right to make choices. 

Man is extremely adaptable and can live under a variety of conditions.  The searing heat of the dessert, to the frozen tundra of the polar regions.  Even with the right equipment, man can live in the water.  The submarine stays underwater for months at a time.  Then man lives in space, floating high in space, encapsulated in a tiny space vessel. 

To complain about the snow, nope for it is but a brief moment in time.  As I write this, most of the snow has melted and the temps are in the mid 40’s.  Yes Fall truly is a wondrous time of year.  The Four Seasons can be had in a week. 

Walking, time to forth chase the steps my shoes are making.  Trod gently into that good day the Lord has given me.

Wandering Notes

 

Occasionally I will pause and collect the scraps up and put the puzzle out in a semblance of disorder.  Today a cool crisp 60 some degrees and a dusting of snow on the high peaks.  Then I;’ve seen the high peaks get dusted in July.  So the season changes.  Not that I want it, I would really like to see it stay here.  I have become selfish, want to keep my favorite weather. 

The golden haze of fall is tapping at the door.  Chasing away the over bearing heat of summer.  The days of the dog have faded into recesses of vagueness.   

Most of summer was spent getting ready for the icy fingers  from the next chapter.  Paint the house, fix some plumbing and other odd n ends out side.  Tend to the garden, gather in some produce, have fresh veggies, do some freezing and get ready for the fall.  Get the drive ready for the snows, spread some more gravel. 

Life has a rhythm that is different from the city.  One has to look to self for help.  Understand what it means to be independent but reliant on God.

 

The brow wiping time is but a past moment.  Sweltering heat rotates to the south to spread its wings down yonder.  Spring flows from my autumn.  Winter loses it grip to gain a new foothold.  Traveling across the divide.  

No longer can I carp about the heat, now I shall focus my attention on the snow flakes.

Years accumulate, the roof becomes whiter, the brown is subdued yet on goes life.

Now where did I place my notes.  I had some story notes someplace.  Darn it…. if I wasn’t so absent minded, I wouldn’t be so forgetful.  Oh well here comes the weekend…. Ya’ll have a good one.

The Time Change

 

The days grow longer, the sun rises earlier and settles into the horizon later.  The swirling continues on, yet man still tries to control things.  There is Standard Time, then there is Saving time.  The second one makes me wonder, How is time being saved?  When comes for the clock change, I would to see the meddling politicians get out of the way and no more time changes.

I enjoy the evening, the end of day.  Sit there, watch the traffic circle over the rise and descend into the little hollow where the town is.  In the winter the sun is going for the evening meal and but the lights of the vehicles line up curling down the ridge.  Makes for a nice show but it is in the dark.  This time of year the light tarries for a bit and the journey homeward bound is easier.  It is so nice to have a bit of light in the eve to unwind the mind, even for but a few minutes.

Well the storm came through, some wind, cold air and a bit of flakey stuff.  It was enough that a few drivers had forgotten how to drive and made a few dings in sheet metal.  For that reason many do not like snow.  For me it one of those things that gave his creation and I can not curse it.  For it is the snow that brings all the glory of summer.

Our moisture supply is almost none existent.  So more snow would be nice.  One that could be measured in many inches, using a yard stick. 

The weeds under the snow make nice patterns or wonderment.

Then there is the shadow of the birdfeeder.  Grasses stand up through the thin mantel of white.

The howling coyote floats out over the silence after the storm.  Wavering but a bit when the wind returns to rearrange the flakes.

Snow, one of those I do not have to deal with much any more.  I stay out of the way.  I believe only once have I slid off the road or did donuts.  Have watched many in a big hurry, keep the tow trucks busy.  There are also the four wheel frollies of spinning off the road, across the ditch, up the other side, back into the ditch and back onto the highway. 

Snow is something I have come to love.  Sure there is misery, then weather has its moments in all seasons.  When I lived in Denver, one could hear a silent cheer when the first snow for the mountains was reported.  Skiers were getting the board out and ready for the season.  Drive to mountains in the winter a few times.  One learns how to drive on the slick roads and to have the vehicle prepared.  Break down or have problems in the mountains is expensive. 

Yes there are nice things about the snow, snowmen, snow angels, tracks and great pictures.

Now to get that clock fixed so it doesn’t keep falling back.

All Clock Eyed

 

Not sure who to talk with but I wish the politicians would stop messing with my clock.  This day is one of my least favorites.  The spring change I even like less. 

Believe I’m gonna write my local congressman and tell him to get the political types out of my clock.  No matter how one looks at it, time does not vary.  It is us little peoples that get messed by clock eyed politico's.

Now where is clock smashing mallet?

Was reading that some people are upset about businesses making money on the clean up after the east coast storm.  They think the government should be doing it.  Where business is working at clean up they are out performing the government workers…… hum wonder why.

One day a few people may understand where taxes come from…… profits.  Without businesses there would be not much to tax and there would be no wealth for the government to confiscate.

Basically if one is not a capitalist, they are a communist.  The two forms of economic distribution.  Yup there are variations but if one is against capitalism ….. what are they for?

Now if I could get my clock to stop falling all over itself I might go for a ride. 

Hop in, go see the country side, take some pictures, wander the grassland, listen to some tunes and have cold lunch.

Hope you are having a great one.

Crisp Fall Approaching

 

The heat is subsiding and the days are shorter.  The dog days of summer have departed.  Nights are almost cold, mid 40’s.  Time to explore the roadside stands.  The fruits of summer are on stands in the Valley.

No longer is the produce hauled by the rick.  The stand has been by the road for over a half century.  The family still goes out and digs in the dirt and bring their goods to market.  There are some things that will always remain the same.  Dig in the dirt, put some seeds in, add some water, pull the weeds, harvest and there are rewards for hard work.

Ever since recorded time man has tilled the soil for his livelihood.

The colors of fall are very distinctive.

Whether they harvest is for decoration or function.  Fall is the theme of cool crisp air.  No longer is there the fresh smell of burning leaves.  Store the fruits of summer away in a cool place and the fruits will last through the winter. 

Man is at the basic with nature.  No aspirations of control for nature has the rhythm one has to follow.  The pulse of life moves at its pace

The drought continues.  The ground is parched.  The pocket book feeling pinched.  weeds are brown.  Dirt is powder.  Dust swirls into the air.  Prayers for a snowy winter.

Windy Times

 

Would make a good headline for the political debates and campaign trail.  So much hot air spews forth from Campaign trail it becomes a load to beat. 

What this is about is the wind is a blowin, not bad, 30 to 60 mph.  Enough of a breeze to move things around, like trash etc.  As fronts pass through the wind kicks up and the neighbors lose stuff sets sail.  One thing about living in the country is learning how to deal with the elements.  Make sure lose things are secure or anchored someway. 

60mph is not bad, I have been heavier winds, over 120mph.  Those get serous and cause major damage.  Major hurricane and tornado winds, batten the hatches down and ride it out. 

Nature has a furry that has no equal.  Yet man tries to duplicate with its bombs and machinery of destruction. 

When I lived in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, winds of 100 mph were not unusual and gusts over 120 occurred at times.  Had a friend who built a house by the Air Academy.  He built it using concrete and stucco, to withstand winds of over 150mph.  The Air Academy has clocked winds over 120mph so he wanted to be relatively safe.

Out here on the prairie the wind does not howl quite as fast.  It do blow a lots though and the tumble weeds get re arranged a lots.  Usually they get bound up in the fences and if it snows, makes for a big snowdrift. and repairs later. 

Like so many things in the country, the wind gets griped at yet what good does it do.  The wind will blow where it pleases and when it pleases.  Not much man can do about it but complain.

The wind also makes a good metaphor, the hawk. the wayward one…. or your choice.

Things that had been on the north forty are now on the south 100. 

I Say So….. So It Shall Be

 

Kind of a cute cartoon.  This was on the First page of the calendar for January.  The year is a collection of Dennis blurbs of wisdom.  The saying strikes one as being cute but look beyond it being cute.

In arrogance so many think that if they vote for something it will be.  Listen to the politician's as they are on the stump.  How arrogant they have become and how unattached they are from the general populace.

It is the republicans campaigning and they are basically saying the same thing that Dennis is.  I will vote for this and it will happen.  That is the mantra that Obama used to get elected president.

All kinds of promises are made and almost none are kept.  Wonder if there is such a thing for malpractice for politicians.  About the only recourse is election time yet we vote for the same old bunch of cronies expecting different results.

There is a time when the circus of politics becomes a cartoon.  Only problem is their cartoons are not cute nor benign like the sayings of Dennis are.

The weekend is here.  Time to recreate and get ready for another moment in time.  The days and weeks on the calendar slide along.  The days are growing longer and the chill is settled in.  Soon the warmth of the sun will chase the frost out.

Dying

 

Went to a memorial service for a friend this week.  He was a Vietnam Veteran and was interred at the National Military cemetery.  I have a relative here plus some friends, so I went early to visit them for a moment for I knew afterwards would not be good.

As I walked among the grounds lots of things flooded the mind.  Here were people that served the country to be put in harms way.  Freedom is the creed that they fought for.  I ask myself, freedom from what, to do what, how to be or what is freedom.

Freedom caries a multitude of meaning to people. 

What does it mean to you?

How do you relate to the revolution of 1776?

 

There were a jumble of thoughts for me that afternoon and after the first of the year I want to explore them and share some of my thoughts.

Enjoy the rest of the weekend and have a great week leading to Christmas, the greatest gift of all.

The Yellow Flowers n Colors of Autumn

 

Autumn brings the cool changes of fall.  No longer is there the searing heat of summer.  Nature is getting ready for a nap.  The  beauty that is covered by the green ushers forth, the last blooms unfurl, soon to be replaced by naked browns.

Meadows change to a carpet of yellow accented by green, outlined by the towering trees of green going to yellow.

Country roads travel through bent boughs, arched tunnels of green n yellow.

Autumn is a season of calm.  Soon the snows will fly over the fields bring moisture and nourishment for next years crop.

In the glistening light, colors hurry, pausing but a moment to be captured in memory.  Sun slants to a lower angle each day. A season at the end.

Mixed in with nature can be found the hand of man.  Acres and acres od sunflowers bow their heads in prayer.  Soon the harvester will roll forth, thrashing the plants.

May You have a blessed weekend.

 

Old Threshers Day …. III

 

The Old Threshers had their own little plot of land and in one corner they laid out a little town.  One room school houses and other buildings were hauled in from the country.  Each represented a different business that had been found in the town.  Boardwalks lined the buildings and inside were a variety of displays people had donated to and put together.

Each of the buildings had their own caretakers and in between were a few vendors.  It was like walking down main street small town.

The streets had a few trees and it was a pleasant walk.

 

There were also old time accommodations.

 

 

Do some praying before visiting the old time dentist, return home to some home baked goodies.  Notice the butter churn on the counter.

Ever had homemade butter n fresh buttermilk.

It has taken some work and time to build all the different displays and I am thankful for their effort.  Preserving a piece of the past many will forget.

Threshing Days

 

Across the country the farming communities celebrate their heritage in various ways.  It may be their crop, strawberry days, potato days or something else.  These celebration days harken back to a time earlier in history.  The old crafts and machinery show up, locals get together to visit, talk about the weather and the days events.  A feast is set out and there is more visiting.

This past week I went to Old Thrashers Day at a neighboring town.  It has been going on for a number of years.  The show was spread out over a few acres with different activities in the locations plus there fairgrounds next door was being used.

There was more then I want to put in one story so I am going to spread it out over a number of stories.  To say the least, I enjoyed my day and next year will plan better for a longer stay.

 

One of most interesting was watching this young lady and her oxen.  They are about 1500 pound animals and with a little flick of her whip the ox responded.  There is no leash or harness, she leads them around with the buggy whip.  It is a flick above them or a gentle tap on their shoulders to get their attention.  Mostly it was a gentle tap and the oxen would respond and move to her commands.

 

She gets them hooked up and they push their buggy back up on the trailer.  They have to push evenly or the buggy goes lopsided on off the trailer.  It was a treat to watch her work with the animals.

She said they are 4 years old so that means they will grow some more.  They will probably grow to over 2000 pounds. 

I talked with her a bit and she said they use them around the farm for various chores, such as hauling water out to pasture.  She also said she has fun with them around the farm.

There were some other woman there dressed like her.  I am guessing they might be a Mennonite type of sect.  Yet to get the animals to work together like that takes time and patience.

 

Fall has arrived…. will be in the 40’s most of the day and it has been raining past 2 days.  No frost on the pumpkin yet though but it will be close.

Summer Poesies

Every Summer I put out petunias and other flowers in planters.  They get fed, watered and pruned through out the summer.  This year they grew out of the planters.  I put some moss roses in with them and they almost took over.  In among the roses are the petunias.  This year has been one of my best for flowers in the planters.

 

Have a great week and I hope you had a great weekend.

Passing Sun

 

With time the cycle rolls around.  The sun moves from north to the south.  Colors change. clouds float, ever changing, a motion that is ever changing but always the same. 

 

Into the eve ole man sol travels.  On the morrow he shall return.  Light, warmth and life he carries. 

His days are not numbered.  Measurement comes from his location.  Across the horizon rays reach their fingers.  Touching caressing…. bringing life’s warmth.  The same each day, a pattern that changes to be the same.

Steps I measure out no length, without direction.  Leading to where.  Prints left behind.  Frozen in a moment.  Briefly forgotten, rediscovered, where to look.  Was it lost, misplaced or hidden.

The march continues, following a rhythm few hear or see.

Gather me up.  Warp me in your warmth.

Carry me.

Broken Darkness

 

Amber slices on the far wall.  The streetlight has found an opening between the curtain and the wall, dimly marking a slice on far wall.  Reminding that there is darkness beyond the walls.

 Sun has set, evening has closed the day, far side lies the warmth of Old Sol.   Amber flickers on the wall fade to gray dimness.  The golden orb is returning.  No longer is the far wall marked by street lamp.  Dull gray slices over the wall.  Dogs whine n scratch.  Morning routine is beginning.

New beginnings as darkness retreats, slashed by the golden orb.  Door opens, dogs scurry out, pausing to check the scents from the night.  clouds envelope the horizon, caressing the green grasses, brown earth.  Jewels of dew glisten on the branches as clouds swirl through the branches.

Gray sky blocks the light of day, a still lamp travels over the land, not yet is the darkness broken.  New day beckons.

 

Breezes flow on, marching to their silent drummer.  Whistling through time immemorial, marking steps unseen, carving monuments, changing all leaving nothing different.

With new day I usher forth another mark leaving behind that which is gone.  Looking to that which is there, always right there.

Coffee in hand, settle into chair, gaze out window at the grayness swirling about.  Little dogs curled up in corner.

 

May your weekend be a blessed and peaceful.

Random Quinks

Thoughts from here and there or whatever happened to fall out of the noggin n gray matter.

The fires in Arizona and New Mexico are sharing their smoke with us.  In the mornings the breeze is from the north and it is kind of clear.  As the sun rolls over the wind rolls around to the SW and here comes the smoky haze.

Last night there were pretty good whiffs of burning wood.  As the night settles down the wind calms.  In the morning it is kind of clear.  The haze makes for some interesting sun spots. 

Get lots of complaints from people with respiratory problems, self included.  The smoke effects my allergies and sinus.  I would of not been a good fighter of fires.

Living in the country is a life many dream of but few do.  There is a different lifestyle.  Stores are not close by and medical is further, neighbors are not down the block and nature is the at the step.

 

 

this farm house is fairly well isolated,  couple miles to the nearest neighbor.  It can be lonely at times out in the outback of the prairie.  Here life has a pace of nature.  the seasons change and life changes. 

Civilization is creeping in the country life.    the latest gadgets in the kitchen, monster tractor in the field, slick new pick up to chase the cows and giant windmills.

 

What had once been a far ranging vista is now becoming cluttered with giant three handed machines, 

The landscape is changing yet this same area is also dotted with missile silos.  The giant three handed monsters will be well protected in case of invasion by ET’s relatives.

 

                        ………………………………………………………………………..

 

Ya know what I would like to see….. Congress go back to two sessions, each one 90 days or less, per year.  the end of the session…. every one go home, no more new laws, no more gabbing about nuttin and maybe some peace for the home folks.

 

 

A Bit of Sun and Leaves

It has not gotten warm enough around here for the leaves on the trees to fully fill out.  It is till early spring for the higher elevations of the plains.  Here is a cottonwood still in early spring stage.  The leaves are still translucent and the cotton buds are forming.  With some more sun and warmth the seed pods will open and the air will fill with cotton.

 

 

With some backlighting and a clear blue azure sky, the young cottonwood leaves set off nicely against the sky.

The weekend is over, a new week begins.  The travels of life continues.

Have a great week.