The Last Days Of Summer

As our nights got cooler, the morning mists and dew grew heavier. This morning view is looking from the dog yard out over the Ninebark bushes, gravel road, north field and the trees beyond:

One pair of pigeons produced another baby. I feared it wouldn't make it, but it's been doing just fine:

The Wild Cucumber vines bloomed everywhere but were especially dramatic atop the old-fashioned rose bush. Alas, no photo of the combination turned out and I had to settle for just a photo of the Wild Cucumber blossoms:

Goldenrod, Burdock and Cattails abound along the fence line:

The New England Asters began to bloom. I hope they'll attract masses of butterflies like they did last year. There are a number of Monarch butterflies around but they won't hold still for photos:

One day I found half of my north field mowed:


And the next day my neighbor began tedding the mowed hay. Tedding is turning it over so it will dry thoroughly in the sun:

There was so much dew that he had to ted the mowed hay repeatedly:

And then, just before rain was expected, he and his uncle came to bale the hay. There were only 54 bales because the drought had kept it from growing for a month, but it was beautiful hay:

The best part for me was standing around afterwards and chatting:

The pink Rose Mallows began to bloom. They produce all their buds at the top of a big stalk which displays nicely outdoors, but renders them unusable for cut flowers, at least until the end of the season when there are just a few left. As you can see, the opening buds are gigantic like the flowers:

With the neighbors' barn and horse across the road, I thought they made a great late summer picture. You can see a red Rose Mallow bud on the top left, just about to open and add to the color:

Pigeons, Hay Bales, Sunrises, Chickens And Fruit

The fantail pigeons only produced two babies this summer, and both of them died. But then this this lovely bird hatched one squab and fed it carefully:

 It fell to the floor on its second day, but since the parents were feeding and tending to it, I left it alone:

 It began to grow rapidly, sprouting feathers. I am hopeful that this little one will grow up and join the flock. There has been a second baby born since then and it too is doing well:

 A neighbor spent more than a week cutting, tedding (turning it over to dry in the sun) and baling the hay in my north field. I'd already filled the first floor with hay from another field, so my portion from this field went up into the hay loft. Electric bale elevators are marvelous inventions:

 And early in the morning, the parked haying equipment looked stunning in the rosy glow of sunrise:

 Wild blackberries ripened and I didn't even have to go looking for them. I stopped my riding mower and ate these right next to the lawn without even getting off the mower:

 I don't often see the fantail pigeons, the "baby" chicks and the adult hens all together, but some of each were all hanging out by the barn mini-door on this day:

 The eight remaining hens now live full time with the youngsters, though they diverge into two separate flocks the moment they get outdoors:

 I see a lot of glorious sunrises, but this one was the best so far. It was even more colorful that the photo and seemed almost to pulse above the foggy northeast field:

When I rang the bell to call in the cows that same morning, this was the morning sky over the southeastern field, which also was covered with fog. The cows and horses, by the way, refused to come in that morning and I had to wait until late afternoon to give them grain:

 I was taken aback when I saw these berries in my giant Lilac bush. They were on Virginia Creeper vines and perhaps the first time I've seen Virginia Creeper berries - or, more likely, the first time I truly took note of them:

 Some varmint, probably a rabbit, had been gnawing my windfall apples. I finally figured out who was eating them. It was my own hens, strolling beneath the apple trees, with a peck peck here and a peck peck there. I can still feed most of the apples to the cows, but some are so thoroughly demolished that I can't even do that. These were three good, still usable apples:

The Red Poll Girls - I Get A Lesson In Photography

The Red Poll girls have been enjoying their summer - everything, that is, except the biting flies. I've tried spraying the cattle with fly spray, but they run away from me, clearly not understanding the potential good it might do them. On the other hand, I haven't seen any solid evidence that the spray really is doing any good. But otherwise, it's been a peaceful, comfortable summer with a lot of greenery for a cow to eat:

The calves play while the cows either search for green goodies to eat or just lounge about, chewing their cuds:

I walked across the field to join the cattle as they relaxed near the county road. Annie and Gladys stood up as I got near, stretching their legs and backs in case they'd need to flee from this two legged interloper:

But they didn't need to flee. Taking a cue from the older and wiser cows, they each kept a wary eye on me, though. I might be a dangerous character. After all, I did tattoo and tag their ears:

Cud chewing is a major occupation:

Loretta began playing while Amy, her mom, watched to see what I was up to:

Now, lest you think that keeping cattle is an idyllic hobby, here's a bit of reality, with Annie pooping and Gladys peeing. These animals are veritable eating and waste making machines:

I don't know why the cattle were standing on last winter's old, rotten hay when they had free access to several green fields. Perverseness, probably, just as in humans:

Do you remember the "cows in the mist" photo which my neighbor took? I liked it so much that I decided to take my camera out for a misty close-up the next time we had a foggy morning. After a night of rain, a foggy morning brought me out with my camera and a bag of apples with which to lure them:

I kept snapping photos as I got closer and closer:

Until I realized that the closer I got, the less fog I saw. There was, after all, less mist between me and the cows:

So I began backing up, putting more distance between the cows and me. When I got back to the house, I simply cropped the picture to obtain the desired effect. I learn something new every day:

The Days Of The Shadbush - A Farm Update

My neighbor took this photo from his house across the road one foggy morning, of my cattle in the south field. I'm now hoping for another such fog so I can walk out and get some misty close-ups of the cattle. That sort of fog only seems to happen in the north field, though, so I'll lose my chance in another week or so when I move the cows back across the road:

The cattle liked the warm weather and they enjoyed the grass in the north field. The increased flies, however, they have not been so happy about. But so far at least, they haven't been biting flies, just the annoying kind which cluster on their faces:

The Fantail Pigeons have continued to stay indoors despite the big, open window they have each day:

They also have not been raising any babies. Maybe all the failed attempts during the winter wore them out:


Gracie was due in 20 days at the time I took this photo. Her udder was already swollen with milk and looked painful. Her belly was similarly swollen. Luckily, her sweet nature remained intact:

Then one day I noticed white sprinkles in the trees behind the cattle, and I knew that the Shadbush were beginning to bloom:

And bloom they did. Clearly, the horrible winter we'd just lived through had not set them back:

All along every roadside and scattered throughout every woodland were Shadbush, blooming profusely:

I bought two red Azaleas half price at Home Depot and planted them in the front yard. They both had plenty of buds so I am hoping to see flowers any day now:

The Shadbush at the edge of the north field blossomed fully and I began looking for nice ways to photograph the cattle with the Shadbush in the background. This picture was taken on my side lawn, standing beneath the Eastern White Cedar, and looking across the dirt road to the north field. That yellow square, by the way, is an "Electric Fence" sign, hanging from a fence wire:

Violet is my least friendly cow but she likes me enough to watch me from a short distance. In this case, she looked quite striking, standing in front of the white Shadbush flowers and white Birch trunks at the edge of the field:

I continued to give the cattle bowls of grain each morning, though it's a bit more tricky when they're not in stalls. In this case, Gracie (note the giant udder) and 9 month old Rosella were wrestling over a bowl of grain:

A Misty, Foggy Farm Morning

The dogs and I had arrived at the farm on Sunday afternoon after a long journey from Albany. The younger dogs and I had gone hiking on Monday morning and then settled in for the night in our little farm apartment. On Tuesday I arose well before dawn and let the dogs out, drank coffee, exercised, ate breakfast, listened to Canadian Public Radio and did crossword puzzles. When the sun came up I took a walk around the property. It was all shrouded in mist:

The fog was heavy and everything looked a bit mysterious:

I walked out a short way into the south hay field and then looked back toward my house and barn:

The apple trees were still laden with fruit and stood quietly in the haze to the south of the farm house:

I walked across the road to view the house from that angle:

And my neighbors' horses and barn in the morning mist. It was Tuesday morning and I had a long drive to make back to Albany. I was disappointed that I hadn't been able to take another hike, but I was hatching a plan. I'll post about that tomorrow: