Posts Tagged ‘frosty morning’
Finally Frosty
There will be a little break from my whining about how hot it is for this time of year because normal temperatures have returned for a while. In fact, the air temps made a jump from too hot all the way down to freezing in rather short order.
The horses were looking forward to the first rays of sunlight reaching them so they could soak up that solar warmth. The thickness of the frost was impressive in places, particularly on top of the wood post of the hay field fence.
I crouched down to get a shot of the frosty grass by holding my phone close to the ground. It wasn’t until I saw the image on my computer screen that I noticed there was one rogue grass blade standing tall among all the freshly mowed grass around it. How did that one dodge the cutting blade?
I have no idea. Ya gotta give it to that grass blade, though. It found a way to stand out among the crowd.
So, we are at the awkward season of transition between always thawed and usually frozen. Do we shut off all the outside water and drain everything now, or wait and risk being forced to do it all at once later, when the next string of cold nights arrives? We’ve decided to do a little of both. We have drained and rolled up some hoses to store for the winter. The landscape pond pump will continue to run for a while longer.
It’s a bit like deciding when to rake up leaves. Too early, and more will fall back onto the lawn. Too late, and they could freeze up and get buried by an early snowfall.
I’m not complaining (even though it may seem like I am) because the four changing seasons are one of the most wonderful aspects of living where we do. The challenges of the transition weeks are not a bug; they are a feature that builds character.
It’s funny to me that I forgot I needed to dress more warmly when I stepped out the door yesterday into the predawn frosty environment. Where are my insulated gloves, anyway? Oh, yeah, I forgot I have a fleece vest for cold weather. That reminds me, I bought new quilt-lined flannel shirts last year.
I think all that summer-like heat of the last few weeks lulled me into an aimless indifference about preparing for cooler weather. Last year at this time, we had just returned from Iceland, where I had packed all sorts of layers for outdoor adventures. I was already in cold-weather mode when we got home.
Frost is supposed to mark the end of the growing season. With luck, maybe I won’t need to do more than a few spot mowing sessions to finish off managing our grass growth once and for all in 2025.
Remind me to check on the status of our snow shovels soon.
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Autumn Scenery
I started to title this post, “September Scenery” before I realized it’s already the eleventh day of October. Since it doesn’t feel at all like October, I went with, “Autumn.” I needed to mow grass again yesterday because it is still growing, despite the mornings starting frosty in our low-lying areas.
It might be frosty, but it really doesn’t feel like October.
I wasn’t able to give Light any extra attention yesterday because my time was constantly being demanded by Asher. Cyndie headed for the airport before Asher and I were out of bed in the morning and when he wasn’t begging me to distract him from loneliness, he was searching for where Momma could possibly be. She flew out of state with friends for a few days to celebrate each of their different milestone birthdays occurring this year.
Asher didn’t seem too happy to discover it was just him and me and he failed miserably when it came to employing any self-soothing skills.
His skills of stealth in the woods were still as keen as ever, though.
You might think that’s just a shot of one of our paths into the woods, but look closer…
Sometimes Asher can hide in plain sight.
While he and I were playing with his Jolly Ball in the front yard I heard a familiar screech overhead. I figured I knew what it was but Asher’s wrestling prevented me from being able to turn my head skyward right away to look. The screeching continued enough times that I finally pushed him away so we could both look up.
Sure enough, it was a bald eagle. Three bald eagles, in fact, were circling surprisingly low directly over our heads. I wondered if the screeching was a comment on our activity. Both Asher and I stared for a while as the three majestic eagles circled higher and higher away from us.
I wasn’t quick enough to capture a photo before they were too high to easily see.
Plus, Asher was back to bashing his Jolly Ball into my leg so I would resume wrestling over control of it.
Since Cyndie wasn’t home when he went to sleep last night and won’t be home when he gets up this morning, I’m hoping it will be a little easier for him to adjust to her absence and sync up with my solo routine for the next few days.
It’s not that big a deal for him, but I fear my sanity depends on it.
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Mostly Fine
For the most part, we are good for now. The driveway is plowed, including the circle around the hay shed, allowing vehicle traffic. The weather looks to be settled for a few days of gray skies and temperatures below freezing. The thing that nags at me is that a change in either direction will produce complications I would prefer to avoid.
Here is a shot revealing the amount of pavement that has been lost to the mounds on the sides of the driveway that have gotten too high for my plow blade to be effective:
Ideally, I would plow the snow one blade width beyond the pavement to have room for the next big snowstorm.
Conversely, when temperatures climb above freezing and our snowpack begins to melt, I will be faced with a long period of water draining across the slope of pavement by the shop garage because I gave in and left a large amount of snow on the asphalt.
Water draining across that slope re-freezes most nights and becomes a real nuisance.
I suppose I could crank up the diesel tractor, scoop up the snow in the loader, and dump it on the downhill side of the pavement. I’m a little wary about the chains on the tires abusing our new asphalt. It’s like not wanting to see the first scratch in a new car’s paint.
More in the moment, this morning’s session with the horses was a delight in the magical frosty calm of a perfect winter day. After making it through the last storm without blankets, the herd seems content with their situation. They are all (mostly) dry and the footing is reasonable –not icy, not too deep or sticky.
When no vehicles were traveling past our place it was particularly calm and quiet. Not even a single neighboring dog could be heard making its usual announcement of existence.
“I’m here! It’s ME! Can you hear me barking over and over?”
After devouring their feed, the horses showed zero urgencies about switching to munching hay. There was nothing except a powerful sense of contentment.
I stood silently observing them for a few minutes before quietly making my departure toward the house for my breakfast.
For now, everything is perfectly fine.
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Relative Something 