A Season Of Great Beauty

The cherry tree is producing fruit nicely, but I have been here long enough to now realize the birds will probably eat them all long before they ripen:

The little climbing rose, called Darlow's Enigma, is living beneath the former farm sign framework but certainly hasn't grown much:

The other five new roses have more sun in their spot near the county road, and they seem to be doing better:

The Mock Orange bush never reached its full potential this year, but I'm not complaining - it was still beautiful:

The Ninebark bush truly outdid itself this year:

I was mowing the lawn on the north side of the house when I noticed this lovely scene and stopped to take a photo of it:

Alas, that's when I noticed that the Prairie Rose flowering crab tree has got some kind of disease again this year. It has almost no leaves left:

My crowded little Iris and Lily garden is so full of plants that it's a wonder any of them can live. One Oriental Poppy is blooming this year and the Blue Sea Holly is going gangbusters:

The old fashioned rose I started with a shoot from a bigger rose began to bloom nicely:

And the white Peonies were spectacular:

There was also one red single Peony which I planted two years ago:

I often take pictures of nice dawn skies, but this one may top them all. I was putting the little horses out in their corral just after 5:00 AM when I saw this sky:

Around The Farm In July

My little garden continues to fill in, and I hope that all the crowding will keep down the weeds. I have seen evidence of some animal sitting on them during the night, but at least whatever it is hasn't been digging in there or eating the leaves. The yellow Asiatic Lilies are left over from the woman who lived in this farm house before me, though I've moved them several times. Moving them seems to cause them to grow stronger and to multiply:

I have several Chipmunks living around the house and barn:

Since it's summer, I go out extra early to do the morning chores. I turn on the lights inside the barn while I'm in there and sometimes, if it's going to be cloudy and rainy, I'll leave on the lights for the pigeons and hens:

And many times I enjoy the spectacular morning skies. On this day, the colors were muted but still beautiful. This was due north:

And looking southwest:

 Northeast:

But one day I was feeling down and discouraged as I mowed the lawn. Then I noticed that I was being watched by a vulture on a fence post. I thought that perfectly summed up my mood:

The bird let me snap a couple of photos before it flew away, apparently deciding that eating my carcass would raise its cholesterol too much. That bit of humor and the beauty of the wild bird helped lift my mood:


And the town put down fresh gravel on the road. Thankfully, they graded it and carefully pulled the stones off of my lawn - unlike what they did last time:

What is this, you may wonder - Sadly, it's a cornfield after several months of excess rain. Not all fields are this stunted and wet, but some are. The farmers who don't have enough money to install drainage systems are more influenced by the wet weather:

The old fashioned rose I saved has continued to bloom, though its June extravaganza is now past:

And wildflowers spring up everywhere. Here by a post, where the mower couldn't reach, Black-Eyed Susans and Oxeye Daisies sprang up to brighten the yard:

The Red Poll Ladies

The cattle have fared well so far this winter despite a few dangerous ice storms and four of them being on diets. The two heifer calves are growing rapidly:

A hay bale lasts only two days, so on the evening of the second day I roll the bale feeder to a new location (to receive a new bale in the morning). That leaves a circle of hay where the feeder had been, making it easier for them to get what's left and also a soft, dry bed on which to spend the night:

There isn't much hay left at the end of the second day:

I don't generally let them into the barn at night, except when a really bad storm is coming:

This is Gracie. Her facial expression often looks crabby, but she is always sweet and gentle with me and doesn't seem to bother the horses at all:

A new bale, the morning after an ice storm. Scarlett and her calf were the first cattle brave (or hungry) enough to cross the ice to get to it. I spread salty sand over as much ice as I could. I also drove the tractor along an ice filled drainage ditch so the wheels would crush the ice at the bottom of it:

But it didn't take too long before the other cattle found a safe way to get to their hay. By afternoon, some of them were lounging around, chewing their cuds:

Scarlett, my most productive cow:

Did someone ring the dinner bell?

A warmer scene, during one of our snow melts:

But soon it was snowing again and little Maggie looked cold:

Tending the Red Poll girls at daybreak is an especially nice time for me. The sky often turns mixed shades of baby pink and baby blue:

Here And There Around The Farm

Autumn is a beautiful time of year around the farm. Things are slowing down and I'm battening the hatches for winter. Our leaves turn colors, then begin to fall. The temperatures drop, and staying indoors becomes a delicious luxury. 

Little Bugsy, now neutered, found a cough drop wrapper on the floor and played with it for hours:

 I took the dogs for a ride and stopped along Lake Ozonia, just south of me, to snap this photo:

 The white fantail pigeons, who went all summer long without reproducing, began nesting in the autumn. The last successful hatching were these two in a nest built of feathers on the floor:

 An older nest of one baby, high up on a narrow shelf, was developing nicely:

 I bought Georgette a new bed to use on the kitchen table because she insisted on spending her days there. This happy scene, with Seamus looking on and Bramble snoozing on a chair in the background, was on a typical autumn afternoon:

 The dogs still enjoyed much time in their fenced back yard:

 The cattle spent almost two weeks in the north field, where I got to see them all day, every day as the leaves behind them turned brilliant colors and then began to fall. They'd eaten just about all the grass by the end of that period and I moved them back across the road into the south field with the horses:

 I was out in the south field when I took this photo, looking northeast across the gravel road to the north field. That bale feeder is now being kept filled with hay:

 We had two days of cold, autumn rain and this was the northeastern sky on the morning of the first day. As they say, "Red sky in morning, sailors take warning:"

 But at the same time, we had a pink and blue sky with a rainbow in the northwestern sky:

I dug PeeWee's old bed out of a closet and brought it downstairs for Georgette. Then, after she got a new bed, I put the old one down for the other dogs and cats. As you can see, it was a big hit with Bramble, Clover and Bugsy:

 The Rugosa roses put on a spectacular display of color as they began to slow down for winter:

Around The Farm In Early Springtime

I'd been opening the pigeons' window for quite a few days but they refused to go outside. Then one day I saw this bird flutter out the window and across the yard, crash landing on the front lawn, near the county road:

I knew it was confused and disoriented, so I shooed it back toward the barn. It flew up onto the roof, where it stayed for two days and one night. I eventually coaxed a couple more birds out to join it and show it how to get back into the pigeon coop:

Sunrise over the manure pile, a picture of beauty and foul smells:

The chickens love being outdoors and, in fact, it's generally an ordeal for me to get them back indoors at dinnertime so that I can relax for the night. They'd stay out until dark if I let them:

The cows refused to come into the barn for grain for a week because the miniature horses were in there. But one day a few of them got brave enough to come in and touch noses with the little equines:

After that, a few of them got brave enough to come in for breakfast, though a few still stood at the door and worriedly peered in:

The miniature horse stalls I'd built were woefully inadequate, so I began building a new one, big enough for them to stay together:

Here it is, almost completed, with its own florescent light:

I looked around for some sign of spring, but the best I could find were the swelling buds on my old fashioned lilac:

I looked for signs of spring until one morning, the farm looked like this:

It would have been beautiful if it wasn't supposed to be springtime. These were the trees which bordered the north field:

And the apple trees. I had to content myself with the assurance the spring would surely arrive - someday: