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:

January Around The Farm

January has given us some brutal cold, big snows, dangerous ice storms - and other fun and games. I increased the cows' feed allotment. I stopped chaining them at meal times, though, because it was so cold I didn't want to take my gloves off. I continued to pet their heads, adjust their collars and reach over the rail to rub their back and sides, all in an effort to accustom them to being touched:

In nicer weather, I locked them outside the barn all day, allowing them inside only at night. But on days with terrible weather, I left the door open for them all day long. Of course you know what that did to the amount of manure I had to clean up the next morning:

 I began using the ancient hay in the hay loft for bedding hay, forking it down through a hole I'd chainsawed in the floor boards. But then I also began using a leaf rake to get ALL of it, raising a mighty cloud of dust (as you can see in the sunbeam). I also began wearing a dust mask on those days:

 And the cows seemed happy. Here's one of them, trying on a bit of hay as a fright wig:

 We had so much snow that I had piles 7 feet high and more. Even in the protected corner of the barn, it became difficult to walk, especially when the snow crusted over with ice. I couldn't have let the chickens out if I'd wanted to (which I didn't), because their door was buried in snow:

Every morning after feeding the cows, I'd shoo them out of the barn, fork the manure and wet hay into the tractor bucket and drive it out to the manure pile. I'd pass right by the cows at their hay bale feeder with the tractor and they became so used to it that I often had to stop to keep from hitting them. They didn't want to get out of the way and the snow was too deep for me to take a different route:

 My five girls consumed a 4' X 5', 1000lb bale of hay every 4-6 days. Plus two hearty feedings of grain each day, of course. Whose idea was it to get cows?:

 A windstorm knocked more frozen, rotten apples onto the snow pack. I'm sure the mice and rabbits liked that although the wild birds stayed at the bird feeder and seemed to ignore the apples:

 The chickens began laying eggs so I bought a backpacker's egg carton in which to keep them:

I ate the eggs for awhile, but then decided not to take chances with my cholesterol level. So I started scrambling a dozen at a time and feeding it to the dogs. They loved it, but then the chickens slowed down their production for the winter. But the dogs will get lots of scrambled eggs this spring when egg laying resumes:

And one cold morning I entered the barn to find these gems dotting the hay and looking like geodes. They were cow manure, frozen so quickly that their steam crystallized on the surface. As January progressed, these "frosted cow pies" became a common morning sight:

Every so often, I would slip out to the barn after dark and turn on the lights to see how the cows slept. They all slept together on the bedding hay, one big happy family. Of course they also wind up sleeping on their own manure sometimes. I imagine it's not comfortable when it's frozen, but I often find flattened cow pies which were obviously slept on before they froze. They probably felt warm and soft in their unfrozen state. Yes, there's a lot of manure talk around livestock:

Random Shots From Around The Farm

The cows have gotten incredibly tame, at least while they are eating. Sweet feed is a powerful incentive. But they have become quite used to me even outside when they're not eating. Jasmine, ear tag #32, is the only one I'd actually call affectionate, but she certainly is:

Each morning, after they get their grain, I clean out all the manure left from their night inside the barn. Then I go up into the hay loft and fork down a big pile of old bedding hay. I come back downstairs and spread it around, then lock the cows outside for the day. After their evening grain feeding, I leave the door open so they can come and go at will. They spend each winter night indoors, but I am looking forward to nice weather so they can sleep outdoors and I will have no manure to clean in the mornings. This photo was taken right after I put down new hay. You can tell by the lack of manure on it:

The bedding hay is somewhere between 8 and 20 years old. It's musty, dusty and yucky - but they always have to taste it, clearly hoping it's something really yummy which I've been saving for them. They are always disappointed (well, sometimes they find it edible) and then go back outdoors for some of this year's hay:

Raking up the old, old hay in the loft is very dusty, so much so that I've taken to wearing a dust mask:

One of the girls tried on a fright wig made of hay:

The most exciting day is the one in which I bring them in a new bale of hay. I've learned to remove the twine (a lengthy and frustrating job, as much of it is iced in place) outside the gate. When I tried to remove the twine inside the gate, I had hungry cows, crowding around to taste the new bale:

Their red coats glowed in the afternoon sun:

Most of the windfall apples were buried in about 18" of snow, but our big ice storm knocked more of them to the ground. I tried to pick some up but discovered that they were very rotten, so much so that they squirted when I tried to pick them up:

My twelve little bantam hens began laying three or four eggs per day. I ate them at first, but then became worried about my heart and cholesterol. I really didn't need to eat any at all, so I began collecting them and scrambling them for the dogs when I'd amassed a dozen:

Needless to say, the dogs are ecstatic on scrambled egg day:

When it's below zero, I discover these fancy gems in the barn. The cows' bedding is ornamented with what look rather like geodes, glistening in the sunlight. Alas, they are only cow pies, and it was so cold that the steam froze and crystallized:

Every so often I tiptoe into the barn after dark to make sure the cattle are OK and they haven't pushed one of the lower ranking cows out of the barn. When I flip the lights on, I always find them sleeping as a group, all comfy and happy in their bedding hay. I leave quickly, lest they stand up, hoping I've come to feed them grain:

Around The Farm, Moving Into Winter

This is a random assortment of photos from around the farm at the end of autumn and the beginning of winter. It seems a little out of place now as it shows green leaves on trees, grass and no snow, but really, it wasn't all that long ago! I'll begin with this photo of the aftermath of a mighty windy day. Three Aspens were snapped off and fell across my electric fence. I spent hours cutting them up and getting them off the fence and out of the hay field:

The chickens continued to have their daily freedom except during big wind storms. And now, on days when there's lots of snow, I often keep them locked up. But they do love to hang out inside the barn with the cows. They even eat out of the cows food bowls, head to head with the giant beasts:

My Red Cedar sign arrived from Idaho and I put it up with chains as insurance against the winds. Alas, those three chains were not sufficient and I added two more, one at each side. The first big windstorm ripped the bottom chain right out of the sign, which was only saved because of the four remaining chains. Hey, I didn't call it "Windswept Farm" for nothing:

"Hello, little feathered buddies. Have you come to spend time with us in the barn again?:"

The Canada Geese were numerous, both overhead and in every pond and corn field:

And the sunsets were wonderful. This was the view from my driveway:

The chickens made the most of every sunny day, taking dust baths and rolling around lazily in the sun:

And this is Cow Number One, the big boss lady who gobbles down her own grain and then goes in search of the other cows' grain. She'll knock them right out of the bowl if they try to resist. Notice the drool dripping from her mouth. She truly loves her grain:

I had a lot of old hay in the hayloft. It was most certainly not good for feed, but I thought I could use it for bedding. So I cut a hole in the hay loft floor to use as a delivery system:

The old barn had a frightening array of old wires, useless fixtures and (get this!) live, uncapped wires sticking out all over the place. So I had a local electrician come in and rewire the whole place, adding outlets and GFI outlets to make the barn both efficient and safe:

I'd hoped all five cows would be pregnant, but one morning came out to see this. Cow number three (ear tag number) was in heat. That meant she was not pregnant and would have to be artificially inseminated. But first I have to get her totally tamed and willing to allow the technician to handle her. On the plus side, she was the smallest cow and most in need of nutrition. So a little extra time without a calf inside her, especially as we headed into winter, was a good thing:

Of course the cold and snow did arrive, and there's much more now than when I snapped this photo. The cows learned quickly how to get out of the wind and that the barn was a comfy place to spend the night. That meant I had to clean the manure out every morning, however: