Spring Has (Almost) Sprung

We had a very cold and snowy March, but April showers finally began to melt the accumulated snow. My lawn had little ponds in it:

The pasture was so wet that I had difficulty finding a place to put the bale feeder where there is no standing water. On this day, the cows had almost finished their last bale and were waiting for me to deliver a new one:

The cold rain seemed never to end. Remy, who could stay in the barn if he wanted, was outside in the rain lest he miss some good hay:

Blue ignored the new hay and ate the leftovers which the cows had abandoned. Notice the standing water between Blue and the barn. It was 4" deep in places and very cold:

I moved the bale feeder and dropped in a new hay bale. The cows and Remy ran to it:


But Blue stayed at the old hay:

Gracie thought I was silly, standing in the puddles to take a photo. I decided that she was right:

The pigeons can now go outside in nice weather although so far they've chosen not to:

The chickens also get to go outside in nice weather although I keep their outdoor time shorter to help avoid fox attacks:

I looked around the side yard and.................wait a minute, what is that odd color I see?:

Why, it's..........could it be green grass? Indeed it could. It's not yet much to write home about, but green is green, and for that I was grateful:

The ditch along the county road was full of rushing water and I decided that spring has indeed sprung, or at least was in the process of springing:

Summer Storm Is Coming!

It was the morning after Pearl was born. I had to drive into the village of Potsdam and stopped at a friend's dairy barn to chat on my way back. After that, I headed for home on a narrow lane with corn on both sides of the road. It was very scenic:

Heavy storms had been predicted, but we hadn't seen any sign of them yet. But the sky darkened as I passed between the corn fields:

The eerie light kept changing, sometimes causing the corn to look yellow, sometimes causing the Chicory to seem to glow. It really did look like a major storm was coming our way:

I kept stopping along the road to photograph the changing colors of the corn and Chicory, the sky changing moment by moment:

The Milkweed was in full bloom, mixed in with the Chicory, alongside the road. The winds began to gust and I put away my camera and hurried home:

It wasn't raining yet when I arrived home, so I walked out to see how Scarlett and Pearl were doing. They were fine, although Scarlett still retained her afterbirth, but they hurried away to join the other cattle before the storm hit:

And indeed it looked ominous when I turned back toward the house and barn:

When I reached the barn, the chickens were running for cover:

And the sky darkened over the winter's hay supply:

We did have a sudden, heavy rain and I hadn't gotten all the house windows closed in time, so I had messes to clean up. This picture was taken from the upstairs bathroom window during the downpour. But otherwise it was just a summer rainstorm. No tornadoes, no house flying away to the land of Oz:

After The Storm

On a Wednesday evening I noticed with alarm that all TV programs were being interrupted with weather alerts warning of violent storms approaching. They listed many of the closest settlements to me as the epicenter. Indeed, when the rainstorms arrived, it felt like we were in a battle zone, with lightning strikes so close that the house shook. It poured rain all night long. The next morning, I saw wet, sodden, muddy fields everywhere:

There is usually no pond here, but rather a local man's carefully groomed lawn:

Hay fields were surrounded by what looked like moats:

The local creek had risen over its banks:

The ditch in my neighbors' pasture had become a torrent:

The ditch along the road and across from my house had filled and was backing up. The culverts could not carry water fast enough:

And at the other end of those culverts, water spewed out under great pressure:

Tractors and other equipment had been left in the fields:

The ground was so wet that I guessed they wouldn't try to move their tractors until it dried out lest they tear up the soil:

All along the roads were flooded sections which brought field work to a stop:

The poor corn fields had been flooded through a good part of June, and now they were flooded again. Smaller farmers, who couldn't afford extensive drainage systems in their fields, seemed to be having a very rough year for corn:

The St. Regis River had widened considerably and, in spite of its calm look, was rushing headlong toward the St. Lawrence. I left my own tractor parked in the barn and began waiting for things to dry out: