The quiet stillness as the flakes of snow pile up. Uncounted billions. All different. But how do we know? The sample size is small. The population large.
Future water, frozen in time. I see green grass and black lambs not snow and fog. Frost covered sheep play and frolic. Warm in their wool the cold is a treat not a burden to them.
I’m not ready, winter boots are somewhere, my warm winter hat knitted from our own sheeps’ wool from my handspun yarn is still in mothballs. It needs to be cleaned and aired out. Gloves are among the missing. I’ll find them today.
Black sheep and white snow. Opposites tied together in a balance. The water cycle.
I picked the last of the tomatoes 2 days ago. They sit ripening on the counter. Stored summer, frozen in time, future stew, chili and spaghetti sauce, Memories of hot and dry and drought but also hope for snow and water next year.
Snow too late to save the grand old trees. 115 years old this year. How many summer droughts, how many winter snows have they seen? I mourn for them. They are symbols of this farm. Here before me and the sheep. Now only remnants left. Grand old trees, tasty apples like nothing available now. I’ve tried to save them. Ancient cloning, bud wood sent to anyone who wants it. Grafting is an ancient skill. I don’t know if any have survived. I’ve tried several times but I am not skilled and my grafts died.
Solar powered, even the fossil fuels we use are stored solar energy. Cause, at least partly, for the droughts and fires. We are expanding, using up resources but still the soft snow comes bringing hope and water and life.
Beautifully written. Thanks for sharing.
Very elegiac and evocative. Thank you.
This is the season I am most tired of city life and want to move back to the country for the silence and the snow.
This reminds me of why I miss the farm where I spent eight years of my life through high school and college. Here is a picture of my father (now deceased) with two of my daughters in front of our farm house.
Here’s another from this morning.
Frost Covered Sheep at Breakfast
And one of the grand old trees
As everyone else said, beautifully written!
Even my wife, who hates the cold, has been thankful for this snow. Hopefully it is enough to slow some of the fires…
Wonderful memories. Thank you for sharing
Not so beautiful as Colorado snowfall, light snow in Kansas.
Beautiful too I’m envious of that river! All that water
Beautifully written. The nostalgia for some of the benefits of the past. In the present, going through potential pain and challenges. Hopeful for the future. Please stay safe in Colorado.
It’s the Arkansas river – a far cry from what it looks like in Lake County CO
As @anon41602260 notes, the Arkansas river’s headwaters are actually in Colorado (albeit on the other side of the Continental Divide from you).
@OogieM, you are positively eloquent! Now I know why you do NaNoWriMo (and I do not).
Speaking of which, NaNo is 4 days and counting. I normally have a plan, at least which of my many story ideas I will work on. One year I just worked on coding. This year, like so much of the year, is all discombobulated and I have no clue what will come out of my mind and off my fingers into my Mac come 1 November.
Chris, my brother in law lives just southwest of Wichita. We are there regularly, 2x in July this year for my nieces weddings. People don’t think of Kansas as beautiful very often, but there are picturesque places in your state. I have visited the statue of the Indian a few times in our trips out there.
Yep. The Keeper of the Plains is pretty impressive.
That is one beautiful tree.