
The hatch is over, and there are ten energetic ducklings in the brooder. As with nearly every hatch, it was bittersweet: while it was, overall, a great hatch, it didn’t play out without some sadness.
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The hatch is over, and there are ten energetic ducklings in the brooder. As with nearly every hatch, it was bittersweet: while it was, overall, a great hatch, it didn’t play out without some sadness.

A storm blew through last night, and it left fallen branches and leaves in its wake. When I was refreshing the pigs’ water (the “pond” above is their water bowl), I was struck by the image created by the multicolored leaves that had been swept into the water: it so clearly was, to me, a harbinger of Autumn.

It’s been very dry here – so dry, the grass is beginning to look like hay, wan and crispy. Clouds gathered this afternoon, angry and threatening, displaying the glowering undersides that portend storms. Unfortunately, we’ve had near misses with storms recently, so I refused to get my hopes up. And then, it came.

Ok, I realize that there’s some irony inherent in typing a post on writing by hand. But, after many years of neglecting (and underappreciating) the ability to handwrite, I’m revisiting it…and striving to improve mine. But is it important in today’s tech-driven society? Regardless of how reliant on technology we’ve become, I do think that preserving the art and skill of handwriting is a worthy endeavor.

On the hunt for Queen Anne’s Lace this morning, I spied what looked like a small sail against the verdant backdrop. The dew clung to it as if it were sea spray…sparking my imagination. Have a great Friday!

I’m an inveterate ponderer…an obsessive analyzer…someone who questions motivations – both others’ and my own. Periodically, I re-examine my desire to blog, wondering if it’s a good use of my time and if it’s worthwhile to continue. My blog isn’t self-supporting, and I pay for the hosting. And yet I still continue to do it. Why?