The Beauty Of Summer

It seems bold of me to type the word "summer," for it has seemed that spring would never end and we'd move right into autumn and winter again. We had to heat our houses at night right through most of June, but at last I can safely say it is summer now. The baby fantail pigeon is doing extraordinarily well:

 And most of the adults are nesting or quibbling over prime mates or nesting sites:

 The bantam hens have reduced their egg laying to a just a few per day:

 And they seem comfortable and happy with their lives:

The offspring of the old fashioned rose began to flower:

 And the damn Canada Thistles and Bull Thistles crowded the fence line:

 I took a weed-whacker to them and things began to look better:

 With longer days, I began going out to do the chores at earlier times, with exquisite sights such as this dawn sky being my reward:

I planted Iris several years ago and this giant purple one began to flower. It is huge!

 Baby apricots (I think - it's hard to remember which tree is which), the first time I've had fruit since I planted the tree:

 And baby plums on the always productive tree. The nonproductive tree looks to be carrying on its nonproductive tradition:

 I planted a hardy Blue Moon Wisteria 3 or 4 years ago, but it never grew an inch. This year it appeared to have died, and even when it produced leaves, I held no hope for it. Then suddenly it began to send up vines as if it was finally going to thrive. Well, better late than never:

Around The Farm In Winter

The bantam hens seem happy and healthy, though a couple of them have begun molting again:

They have access to layer pellets and clean, thawed water at all times:

Some of the white fantail pigeons are looking fine also, but some others are very old and beginning to look their age:

I have had a couple of elderly pigeons die this winter, though I still have a flock of 36 birds:

Most of them have formed breeding pairs, though I have read that pigeons, like people, are prone to infidelity if they see the chance:

 

Cottontail Rabbit and Red Fox tracks appear in the snow every morning. In this case, it was perfectly obvious what the fox was hoping to have for dinner. I saw no signs that he ever got it, though:

A woman in choir made me this hand painted Christmas ornament and I hung it in my kitchen. Now I've decided to leave it up all the time as it's not overtly Christmas themed:

I go out early in the morning to do the chores. On this day, I walked out into the field and looked back. It was a pleasant sight:

The horses and cows share the hay. I never see any bickering over it:

The rubber cow stall mats with which I covered the cellar hatchway blew off in our strong winds, and I knew I had to fix them:

Alas, they are much heavier than I ever imagined, not to mention awkward and flimsy. But I managed to get them back in place - and this time I tacked them down with a couple of nails (left sticking up in case I need to move things around:

Speaking of strong winds, I discovered that one of the two apple trees alongside the road had lost a major limb. I will have to cut it into firewood which I'll give the neighbors, and then I'll haul the small branches out to the brush pile in the woods:

Around The Farm In Chilly Weather

I go out to do the morning chores as soon as there is enough light to see what I'm doing. That often means seeing glorious dawns in the eastern sky:


And on some late afternoons, I see amazing sights in the sky. This full moon was moving across my north field:


The bantam hens seem happy with their cloistered lives:

One hen kept laying occasional eggs but she finally gave it up for the winter. I eat so few eggs, though, that I've still got some in the refrigerator. It's a good thing eggs keep so long:

The white fantail pigeons get all excited when I top off their water. Maybe they think I've put vodka in there:

Our weather has been a wild roller coaster ride, swinging between sudden thaws and sudden winter storms. The herd has handled it all with aplomb:

Remy and Jasmine, the two friendliest animals in the herd. When I walk out to say hello, these two are always glad to see me and they enjoy being stroked - Remy likes the top of his face petted and Jasmine likes me to rub her neck, under her chin:

The little horses and big cows seem happy and content. I never see any dominance displays over the hay supply:

Every morning with new snow, I find an abundance of wildlife tracks. Usually they are cottontail and fox tracks as in this photo, but I sometimes see other tracks which I think are bobcat, coyote and snowshoe hare:

My Amish neighbor is also the horses' farrier, and he usually arrives very early in the morning. On this morning, the sun had not yet risen above the barn roof, which is why the north field is brightly lit but the horse and buggy are still shadowed. The good news is that he said both horses' hooves are healing and looking good:

The sheep farmers up the road brought another load of stemmy hay. Their sheep eat the leaves but leave the stems, which my cows are happy to eat:

This time I was able to position the bale feeder over the top of the stemmy hay:

The Red Poll Ladies

Only two of the cows are pregnant, but some of the others seem to come into heat occasionally. If I can get the timing right, I'll get them artificially inseminated:

They are all healthy, even fat, and living a comfortable life:

I don't let them into the barn except to eat a bit of grain in the mornings, though on most mornings they can't be bothered to walk to the barn to get it:

Life consists of eating hay, then hanging around while it digests. Digestion includes burping up and chewing their cuds:

I go out each morning just as the sun is about to lift over the trees. I see some gorgeous skies on many mornings:

A new hay bale generates much excitement:

Winter storms are taken in stride. You can see the snow blowing past the red bodies in this photo, as well as the snow covered trees in the background:

The barn door was open because this was a morning when Amy and Rosella had come in for a bit of grain:

I hopped off the tractor to move the bale feeder, but Gracie decided that she couldn't wait to taste the new hay:

With a new bale in place, everybody was happy:

This is what winter life is about for a cow - plentiful hay and unfrozen water, the essences of life:

I'd say these ladies are living well:

Around The Farm In December

Much of my focus is on hay these days, and it's fair to say that ALL of the herd's attention is on hay. How fresh it is (or is not), how much ice coats the bales, how much is left, when we will run out, is every animal getting what they need - plus storing it, moving it, unwrapping it - it's an all consuming subject these days (pun intended):

The sheep farmers up the road have been hauling the hay stems which their sheep ignored out to their field and dumping it, so this time they brought me a load to see if my animals would eat it:

The cows and Blue were afraid of the big, noisy truck and unknown people, but Remy got right in the way of everything:

The hay stuck in the bed and we had to move it with a pitch fork, but it turned out to be a considerable quantity. The next morning I went out to fork it into the bale feeder, only to discover it had mostly been consumed during the night. I guess my animals liked it:

I go out to do the chores when it is light out, but the sun is not yet risen over the horizon. The skies are beautiful and the sun is up by the time I'm finished:

The little hens seem happy and healthy:

They don't have much room, but they do have roosts and nest boxes - plus two screened windows which I open on mild days:

One of the elderly pigeons died yesterday, one of only three which have died since I began my flock years ago. I'd say they are long lived, healthy birds:

They eat the same layer pellets as the chickens. Now, if I could just keep the English Sparrows from getting in and eating it too:

I worry that the English Sparrows will spread diseases and parasites to my fantail pigeons, but so far they are looking healthy - and I am working hard to block the sparrows' entrances and to chase them out when I find the inside:

One day was devoted to spreading liquid manure on the corn field across the road from me. A giant tanker brought a big load and transferred it to two smaller tank trailers, pulled by tractors. It took many loads and all day to finish. You can see the darker colored swath which the first tanker load spread. Curiously, it didn't stink - probably because it was so cold:

Each new snow reveals fox tracks, so I know they come visit every night and circle my car, climb the stairs up to my porch, enter the barn and check out the hay bales. I think they are after the Cottontail Rabbits, whose tracks I also see each morning: