Posts Tagged ‘muddy paddock’
Perfectly Wet
Precipitation fell slow and steady all day yesterday, giving us the perfect moisture for growing roots to soak up before the ground has frozen solid for winter.
We didn’t let the shift of clocks back to standard time influence much of our normal routine, but our later morning arrival at the barn seemed to surprise a large rodent. We had entered through the back door, and as I was moving through the darkness toward the light switches, I heard a squeak and noticed Asher hop and twist.
A flip of the switches revealed a rat out in the middle of the floor. I suspect Asher had chomped the poor thing once as it was making no effort to dash for cover. I scooped it up with the manure rake and, after one last bonk to end any suffering, offered the barn pest a hot burial in a compost pile.
Based on the vast network of tunneling occurring in the sand floor, it is easy to assume that there is probably more than just that one culprit lurking about. It is really difficult to discourage unwelcome pests when feeding horses cracked grains that result in endless spillage.
The mares aren’t very fastidious about constraining the leakage from their mouths exclusively within the edges of the mats we put out for that purpose. There are cracked oats and corn scattered far and wide in the vicinity of the barn overhang.
The barn pigeons are in their glory, and the flock has grown to city park proportions with this abundance of food. The rats are probably getting their fair share.
We are employing a variety of attempts at eradication or, at the very least, discouragement to avoid the rats reaching a population approaching the pigeon flocks. Apparently, the neighbor’s cat that regularly prowls our grounds doesn’t put much pressure on rats residing in the barn.
Walking toward the house after chores, I noticed Cyndie chose the grass over the pavement. The wet conditions have left the paddocks muddy, so striding across the grass is a way to wash some of the grime off boots before entering the house.
The moisture was so needed, so perfect; I’m of no mind to complain about a little autumn mud.
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Shedding Underway
’Tis the season of flying tufts of horse hair. It gets a little complicated when their heavy shedding coincides with their days confined to the massively muddy paddocks. The tufts don’t fly as much when they are caked in layers of mud.
Cyndie spent a little time yesterday brushing all four horses for as much as the mares would allow. Each horse has a different level of acceptance for being brushed.
I watched Cyndie try to win over Light with offers of treat bites with varying degrees of success. It got me laughing to see Cyndie trying to multitask brushing Light’s hindquarters with one hand while fending off Light’s face with her other hand. Light kept turning back to beg for another treat.
It is no small thing to fend off an insistent Light where treats are involved.
I leaned over Light’s back and snapped a close-up of the layers of hair.
We both knew that freshly brushed horses rarely stay clean for very long. By the time we returned to the barn to feed them in the afternoon, Cyndie reported they had all taken a roll in the mud.
Thus begins the cycle that will repeat multiple times in the days and weeks ahead.
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Stepping Between
When making my way through the swampiest areas of the paddocks, the trick I employ is to choose my steps between the potholes of hoof divots. Where the horse hooves have pushed up gashes of earth, I push the mess back down. When I allow myself to be distracted by the scoopful of manure I’m carrying, a misstep into a water-filled divot delivers an immediate signal from the wetness in my sock up to my brain, reminding me that these boots leak.
We weren’t expecting to wake up to another fresh blanket of snow yesterday morning. It was mostly harmless because there wasn’t that much and it didn’t require any shoveling. By the end of the day, it had all melted, leaving behind just enough moisture to keep things messy for another day or two.
Sunshine is coming. That should brighten everyone’s moods. Maybe kick the grass blades into gear. That would make the horses happy, I suspect. They do an impressive job of finding every spot within the confines of the board-fenced paddocks where new grass is sprouting.
It’s too bad they can’t figure out a way to walk around that doesn’t obliterate the turf that they would love to eat.
In my meanderings around the paddock, I marveled over the difference between places where it appears they must step gently and the surface packs down versus the damage they churn up when stepping with urgency.
At feeding times lately, Mix has been getting worked up in anticipation and for some reason takes it out by harassing Light and Mia. Yesterday she kept chasing them into muddy areas I’m sure they would otherwise choose to avoid. That kicks up an unnecessary mess.
Swings came over and gave Mix a piece of her mind, as if to get her to leave the other two alone. That works as long as Swings stays around. When she moves back to her feeding spot on the other side, Mix ramps her antagonism back up again.
Light and Mia seem to take it in stride, albeit with muddier hooves. As soon as buckets of feed get distributed, everybody calms down and tends to their meal.
That’s when I make my rounds, doing my best to step between all their many divots.
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Saturated Snow
The weather played out just like the forecasters predicted. Overnight Sunday into Monday the snowflakes flew with an unrelenting intensity. I woke in the middle of the night and saw it was piling up to an impressive depth on the deck railing out back.
It started to change over to a mixture of rain and snow a couple of hours before sunrise. I knew the moment I stepped outside yesterday morning the snow was the consistency of wet cement.
Two of the horses stayed totally dry. The other two looked totally wet. They all appeared to be coping just fine.
I grabbed a shovel and headed down toward the road. I wanted to see how deep the snow was on the driveway and check on the mailbox that usually gets blasted by snow shooting off the blade of the township plow truck.
Just as I stepped out of the barn, I heard the truck coming. I was not going to get there in time to save the mailbox. Luckily, it wasn’t an issue. The driver was working at a controlled speed to push the slop to the side, not throw it well off into the ditches. The mailbox was fine.
The snow depth on the driveway was borderline worth plowing. The challenge would be all the water saturating the bottom couple of inches.
I decided to try running the Grizzly ATV up and down the driveway to disrupt the sloppy covering of snow, half hoping it might be enough to make it easily navigable by cars.
The ATV tracks made it look easy enough to plow so I went for it and lowered the blade at its sharpest angle. I don’t know that it made it any easier but the pavement cleaned up nicely in just a handful of slip-sliding passes.
I wasn’t going to even try the plow blade around the hay shed. I made multiple passes to break up the snow and called it good enough. When we went down to feed the horses at dinner time, there was standing water in many of those tire tracks.
Based on evidence on the ground in the paddocks, several, if not all of the horses, did some lying down in that soaking wet mess with their blankets on. Well, blankets mostly on. Swings managed to fold hers over off her butt.
You can see her back foot standing on the dragging blanket making it hard to move forward. That area just beyond the overhang is even more like wet cement with the combination of sand and saturated snow. The back corner of Swings’ blanket is a mud-saster.
Too bad she’s not one to stand out in the rain. Some precipitation might help rinse off all the muck.
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Fashion Forward
Someone made herself a new coat to go along with the unseasonably mild weather this week at Wintervale.
(Maybe the name of our place should be temporarily revised until normal returns. How about, NotevenclosetoWinter-vale?)
All of our horses like to lay down and roll around on the ground but Light has outdone herself with her latest dirty lime screenings fashion statement.
Light will be the envy of any well-dressed herd with her new self-made mottled pattern covering her from head to hoof on both sides. The expertly daubed design of the clay-like smudges highlights her bold features exquisitely. Light’s cheekbones are perfectly accentuated with just the right application of the freshly thawed lime screenings. Smartly blending her natural chestnut hues with the expansive palette of colors available on the snowless surface of both paddocks, Light is offering a proud tribute to her cousins of the painted breeds.
Her new look would serve her well whether running with wild herds on the open plains or when cozying up at home with her three herd mates.
If the weather stays like this long enough, Light and Mix will have a chance to completely swap coloring. Mix’s natural grey color is easily darkened by the black dirt she finds to roll in while Light has been choosing the slippery slurry of melting lime screenings to brighten her coat with each new added smear.
I’m pretty sure all the neighboring horses are just pretending they don’t feel spectacularly envious of Light’s brave new look.
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Snow Shortage
There are plenty of reasons I lament the disappearance of snow, especially when it happens in JANUARY! Obviously, the inability to make a decent igloo is high among them but the onset of melty temperatures brings an additional complication. As the ground softens in the paddocks, we enter mud-saster season. For a period of time at the end of snow season, being able to scrub boots clean on the way to the house after horse chores is a real plus.
Too bad the mud always outlasts the snow. By all indications, we will likely lose the majority of our snow-cone-quality crystals by the end of today. A few stray piles will remain along the edges of areas shoveled or plowed which will allow for scraping boots. They become treasured resources for a dwindling few days.
It’s little things like this that we allow to make special moments in otherwise routine days.
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Still Cooking
Since the little green caterpillar is still crawling around, I shouldn’t be surprised that the organisms that breakdown manure into dirt continue to do their thing. This time of year my compost piles are usually dormant but I’ve currently got one that is steaming away, active as ever.
We received a little bit of rain overnight Friday into Saturday and that, combined with the above-freezing temperatures, has created sloppy footing in the paddocks. The significant weight of horses provides a pretty good indicator of how thawed the ground gets. Instead of the ground being packed down by their hooves, it becomes dotted with hoof-sized potholes.
Just for the record, when the weather turns back to freezing, the pockmarked surface becomes rock-hard and that wreaks havoc on my attempts to scoop manure. At that point, I just hope for snow to cover the ground for the season so I can just let it all lay until spring.
It’s weird how easy it is to get used to not having snow on the ground. It will require a mental adjustment when winter weather finally arrives and I have to shift into shoveling and plowing mode. I fear I’m being lulled into a nonchalance that will demand more than a little effort to overcome.
Alas, that is a bridge to be crossed at another time. This is the moment I should be focused on.
Yesterday I puttered around with a curiosity about locating the spot where digging for the power cable to the barn needs to happen. The warm weather has me wanting to deal with it sooner than next spring. I tried poking a wire for a while and then got the bright idea I should just call the “Call Before You Dig!” number and have a skilled professional mark the entire route between the shop and the barn.
Of course, you know what will happen as soon as it gets marked. Yes, we’ll finally get that snow cover I’ve been waiting for.
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Mud Nap
The benefits of mud have been manifest in facials and baths but I bet not many have considered the wonder of a mud nap. When mud is pretty much all you have on a sunny spring afternoon, why not? Mia chose to do just that while I was nearby, scrubbing away to clean out the green slime growing in the waterer. I was aware she had dropped down on the muddy slope behind me while I was struggling to reach every complex nook and cranny –corners were actually becoming more black than green– but I didn’t give her more than a quick glance.
Mia got my full attention when I heard her start to snore. That is evidence of a good equine nap. She was resting her snout in the mud, which lets her drop into a deep sleep without laying all the way over with her cheek on the ground. Maybe that would be a bit too much mud for her.
I pulled out my camera, hoping to capture the sound of her snores in a video but as soon as I started recording, Light stumbled because she was falling asleep without locking her legs, and that woke Mia. The focus of my attention shifted to Light, as she seemed to be fighting an epic battle to NOT lie down to sleep.
Maybe she had accepted the role of staying on her feet while Mia sought the few moments of deep sleep but didn’t realize how mesmerizing the quiet March sunshine was that hour. Her knees buckled multiple times. She took a step back. She stomped a front leg on the ground. She was not going to lie down.
The reason I have decided to not upload the video is that it is seven minutes long with periods of not much happening. It looks more like a picture than a video.
When Light finally brought herself under control, I turned my attention back to Mia, hoping she would drop back into that deep level of slumber that produced the snore. That didn’t happen but the nuances of her adjustment and readjustment of her nose resting on the muddy ground were interesting to watch on a micro level. Then she nickered.
That was definitely not a snore. I think she was dreaming. Probably because the mud made for such a wonderful surface on which to sleep.
It always interests me that the horses get drowsy while I am making a racket nearby. Plowing around the barn with the ATV often results in horses napping. As I clattered with the waterer and triggered the loud sounds of water jetting onto the metal pans, they were getting sleepy. Then I stopped for seven minutes and there was barely a bird chirp or a distant bark from a dog.
Suddenly I became self-conscious about making any sound for fear I would now disrupt their peace.
I gathered my bucket of cleaning tools and tiptoed through the muck back up to the barn so they could continue in nap mode uninterrupted.
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Mud Returns
Pick your adage: Be careful what you wish for. What could possibly go wrong? You never know how things will turn out. How much worse can it get?
It’s March. We are ready to be done plowing and shoveling snow. We are looking forward to seeing the ground again. We want the snow to melt. However, the ground doesn’t suddenly thaw out all at once. Just like it freezes from the top layer on down, it melts in the very same way.
Well, the top layer has thawed just beyond the overhang and it is now a muddy, mucky mess. The water can’t soak into the ground because the next layer down is still frozen solid. Water is just standing in hoof-sized pools.
My perpetual quest to clean up manure beneath and around the overhang promptly becomes an unwinnable battle when fresh droppings land in the pockmarked slurry of muck the horses keep walking in. It is a Sisyphean task that I nonetheless continue to wage despite the mess and my limited success.
Meanwhile, the space beneath the roof suddenly becomes an even more luxurious oasis than it usually is.
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The long day of drizzling rain was beginning to become sleet blown sideways by gusty winds when I went down to feed the horses at dinnertime. Beneath the overhang, it was calm and dry. Once again, I found myself praising the location and orientation of this barn.
The mud might be around for a long time to come in the days and weeks ahead but we are already starting to get antsy for conditions to allow me to get back to landscaping projects and Cyndie to try walking the uneven terrain down to the labyrinth. We have hopes of being able to promote World Labyrinth Day on May 6 this year if the ground dries up enough for hosting larger gatherings by then.
I’d like to offer a shout-out to friends, Patty and Steve who plan to visit us in April to experience Wintervale in person for the first time. Here’s to the gift of unexpected connections/reconnections that seem divinely inspired. Thanks for reaching out to us, Patty!
We are three days from the vernal equinox. I’m sensing spring is preparing to be sprung. Is that too much to wish for?
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My Workplace
I don’t mean to boast, but for those of you who are forced to work under harsh fluorescent lighting, walk on static-generating commercial-grade carpet, or stand on cold tile or hard concrete floors surrounded by dreary walls, my experience is worlds away from yours. My workplace is the great outdoors with all the sights, sounds, and smells that come with that.
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Relative Something 