It’s a spring rite of passage, finding the discarded shells of hatching robins below the towering maple tree. The beauty of the color stops me in my tracks and I am compelled to examine the shell fragment, imagining the chick that triumphantly emerged, and soaking in that stunning blue.Continue reading “Haiku: Blue Is The Color Of Hope”
Among the growing grass littered with tiny flowers, where it’s quiet and dewy, violence occurred. All that was left as testament to the life of a rabbit was bits of velvety brown fur; of a songbird, bright yellow feathers, strewn upon the ground.Continue reading “Haiku: Evidence Of Endings”
One of the surest signs (other than the fabulous uptick in laying by the poultry) of spring’s impending arrival is the sudden, almost magical, reappearance of the dependable day lilies. Though they die each season, leaving just the detritus of dry stems poking up from the ground, one day, tiny green shoots appear…and, soon, the reborn blooms will assert their fiery orange cheer on the world. I eagerly await their return!
A few days ago, it felt as if spring might never come…that the cold, wet, and gloom were here to stay, seeping into the very soul. The dour gray sky seemed to press downward with indifference for human discomfort.
With the return of the sun, however, the pall has lifted, and the atmosphere is celebratory: birds are singing and making nests, the grass is greening up, chickens and ducks are laying eggs, and Nature seems (like me) to be smiling today. Though it’s technically still winter, just the suggestion of brighter days is enough to encourage hope to rise like the sap in the silver maple tree. Think spring!
Lovely lichen, everywhere…but did you know it’s actually a symbiotic organism? (yes, Star Trek nerds, like the Trill – but different 🖖). It’s composed of fungi and algae, cooperating to improve their chances of survival.Continue reading “Haiku: Magnificent Merger”
Winter has some of the most striking sunsets of the year. I’d chalked it up to the crisp clearness of the season’s days, and science seems to back that up. The depth of the smoldering hues on the horizon seems, at least to me, to be a sort of swan song: the sun, not going gently into night, leaves its breathtaking impression on the observer.
Experiencing beautiful sunsets one of the rewards of being a farmer. Nighttime chores mean receiving this gift of Nature’s beauty without needing to make special arrangements to see it – fortuitously, I’m already outside! Sometimes the display is accompanied by the soft hooting of owls, a reminder that predators arrive with the darkness and to make haste in getting the poultry secured for the night. And, each night, our birds are settled in safely, just as the sun reluctantly dips below the dusky sky.
Interesting fact: according to Stephen Corfidi of NOAA, “were it not for the fact that human eyes are more sensitive to blue light than to violet, the clear daytime sky would appear violet instead of blue”. Learn more about the science behind spectacular winter sunsets here.