When the leaves start falling, and there is a regular chill in the air each morning, I know it's time to start thinking about winter weather. It may be just bringing in some citrus plants, or covering that "favorite mum" but for some of us it means getting the chicken coop ready, laying by the last of the firewood and insuring that all the outdoor pipes are covered and prepped for our bitterly cold winters (okay, that last part was a joke).
It's also a great time to read. Winter means I can read all the beekeeping magazines, poultry magazines, seed catalogs, and finish that long book I started last year. Now, if that was all one had to do in the winter, that would be great, but the truth is on a piece of property that is anything larger than a postage stamp, there are constant things that have to be tended to. As we move further into the season, we will talk about many of those.
I asked my wife what her thoughts were as we moved into the fall season in full swing and she sent me a small note:
"Our trees are turning vibrant's of red, mellows of orange, tangs of yellow and will soon be meadow brown and musty grey and Squanto the cat has acquired his place on our braided rug in front of our low burning fire.
The mums have broke forth with the singing of autumn. The scarecrow is still watching over the garden, but all he sees is the upcoming winter greens and carrot tops. Gone are the ripe fruits of summer.
Our pumpkins and hay bales line the front lawn with whispers of cool winds blowing bits of straw along the browning grass and tumbling leaves."
Well said...
It's also a great time to read. Winter means I can read all the beekeeping magazines, poultry magazines, seed catalogs, and finish that long book I started last year. Now, if that was all one had to do in the winter, that would be great, but the truth is on a piece of property that is anything larger than a postage stamp, there are constant things that have to be tended to. As we move further into the season, we will talk about many of those.
I asked my wife what her thoughts were as we moved into the fall season in full swing and she sent me a small note:
"Our trees are turning vibrant's of red, mellows of orange, tangs of yellow and will soon be meadow brown and musty grey and Squanto the cat has acquired his place on our braided rug in front of our low burning fire.
The mums have broke forth with the singing of autumn. The scarecrow is still watching over the garden, but all he sees is the upcoming winter greens and carrot tops. Gone are the ripe fruits of summer.
Our pumpkins and hay bales line the front lawn with whispers of cool winds blowing bits of straw along the browning grass and tumbling leaves."
Well said...
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