Posts Tagged ‘sunrise’
Sky Colors
We enter our third day of the current weather trend where rain is expected all day but comes in bands that are separated by reasonably agreeable conditions that don’t last long and end without warning. One minute it is actually a rather nice day and then, nope, it’s raining like crazy for a second but now it’s just a spattering drizzle.
During the week when I am occupied with the day-job, I rely heavily on the always interesting images that Cyndie captures while she is out walking Delilah or tending to the chickens. News is that our Rocky the Roo has become pretty frequent with his challenges to see if Momma is still at the top of the pecking order.
Cyndie has needed to conjure up her “bigger-rooster-than-you” posture and gestures to convince Rocky that he doesn’t want to mess with the humans in charge. I sure hope our lessons will translate to include all other humans who come to visit, as well.
I wonder if Rocky let out a hearty morning crow for this sunrise Cyndie captured.
The rain has quickly transformed the color palette of our landscape toward a much greener hue. In addition to the burgeoning buds on branches, the areas of mowed grass are looking almost summer-like.
The real feature of this last shot, though, isn’t the green grass. It’s the fabulous light from above Cyndie captured highlighting that billowing cloud.
I really, really hope we get a few breaks in the rain this morning like the ones in these pictures because my Ritchie® automatic waterer installer told me last night that he would stop by in the morning and that’s the closest I’ve come yet to getting him to commit to an actual day and approximate block of time since I first requested his assistance two or three weeks ago.
When the source of skills and knowledge desired is also a really like-able guy, it is easier to endure the anguish of waiting for him to eventually get around to it, but it sure tests a patient man’s patience. I will be exceedingly happy when (and admittedly, if) he shows up.
Maybe I’ll have time to take pictures of an interesting sky while I’m down there eagerly waiting in a couple of hours.
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Morning Sky
The sky that morning before the horizon rolled over to expose the sun showed no intention of revealing what kind of day lie ahead.
It’s as if the view was just one more manifestation of another pandemic mask.
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Cheery Morning
Neither Cyndie nor I are naturally fond of waking and getting out of bed in the morning. It tends to occur begrudgingly. I don’t view the occasion as being the opposite of not waking up at all, but rather of lingering in snoozeville and remaining snuggled beneath the warmth of our blankets and pillows. A much-preferred alternative.
Alas, pets demand and deserve timely attention first thing in the morning and Delilah must go out and the chickens want out of their coop for some breakfast.
This morning, against our everlasting preference, we both triumphed over the angst of getting up and entered into cheery histrionics while clumsily dressing and narrating and orating our comical foibles. I’ll just say, I’m not the one who has mistakenly ended up with bottoms on backward or inside out. I can’t claim that virtuosity with tops, however.
It was a beautiful day outside, reasonably mild in the hours preceding an expected bout of ice and snow on the way.
The chickens were all in fine form and very talkative while emerging from the coop to greet the day.
No sign whatsoever of sharing our hesitancy about greeting the day.
They continue to mature and are showing signs of dialing in the art of egg-laying. We received a 1-in-1000 double yolk the other day. By the looks of the size of the shell, that appeared to be an uncomfortable object to pass for a new layer.
Made for a doubly-delicious bullseye breakfast, however!
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Complete Opposite
As expected, we received new snow overnight. Not a lot. Around five inches have been added to our snowpack. The most noteworthy feature about this snowfall is how completely opposite it is in comparison to the previous snow that fell. The earlier event occurred with temperatures hovering around the freezing point and resulted in a heavy, soaking wet wallop of sticky snow. This latest precipitation is all dry powder snow.
There is an interesting result of the snow being such light powder that fell in tiny flakes visible beneath our deck railing.
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I am impressed with how the “shadow” effect shows up directly beneath the verticle slats in the railing.
Cyndie captured the moment of the sunrise this morning from the vicinity of the chicken coop.
She was, as always, very accommodating of the chickens and cleared the path to the barn overhang before opening the coop so the chickens could make their way to that sanctuary for their breakfast.
I will spend the day accommodating delivery drivers by plowing the driveway and clearing pathways. Given the light powder, it shouldn’t take much time. That will allow me to get back inside to spend time on a jigsaw puzzle and watch NFL playoff games in full rest and relaxation mode.
In a way, it’s the complete opposite of the stresses of the work week.
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Painted Skies
One of many fond memories I have of home during my adolescence is the variety of magazines that showed up in our mailbox. I’m guessing I have my father to thank for this. Weekly, I paged through Time, Newsweek, and Sports Illustrated for exposure to the latest images and trends. I remember exploring Popular Mechanics, or was it Popular Science? Probably both. There was Reader’s Digest and a few along the lines of Good Housekeeping, likely for Mom’s benefit, to which I paid a little less attention.
For a spell, there was Arizona Highways with its glorious pictures of colorful western sunsets. I suppose that contributed to a perspective that Arizona was the place where that happened. Obviously, that perception has carried through to now because that magazine came to mind when Cyndie offered me photos she took of yesterday’s sunset and this morning’s sunrise.
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Beldenville, Wisconsin. Land of painted skies…
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Sun Rises
Today marks the return of Standard Time for most people in the U.S. but the sun paid no attention. The earth and sun did nothing unusual to change our circadian rhythms today.
Cyndie captured this image a few minutes before the sun appeared. It didn’t matter to the universe what time our clocks were set to read.
We will reconcile the adjustment to an apparent hour-earlier darkness because we must. Society has yet to reconcile our differing opinions about changing clocks twice a year, but science appears to be leaning toward the conclusion that better health and well-being is possible by eliminating the bi-annual clock adjustment and maintaining Standard Time year-round.
(Ref: https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/0748730419854197)
I have a good friend who never hesitates to remind me how much he likes that we adjust the clocks twice a year to alter the daylight for our routine activities. He is not alone, which explains why the repeated debates arise twice every year in the spring and fall yet nothing seems to come of it.
It’s not the kind of thing that we can each just choose for ourselves. It’s a lot like our national leadership. Independents don’t hold much sway in our two-party system and we can’t each choose to follow our own preferred President. We need to function in a system whether we agree with it or not.
The sun and the earth don’t care either way. For some reason, I find solace in that. Knowing the universe pays no heed to our trifling clock settings helps me cope with a system to which I disagree.
It hasn’t helped as well with tolerating national leadership that shows no interest in helping shift us away from abusing the planet to everyone’s detriment. I suspect the universe will have the last laugh in that contest.
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New Behavior
We never know what we will find when heading down to the barn each morning. In the last few days, in a new twist, the horses have taken to hanging out beneath the willow tree located in the smaller paddock. As a result, we weren’t all that surprised to find Hunter and Cayenne parked there this morning as we approached, walking Delilah.
By the time we returned from a loop around the north pasture through the deep snow, Hunter had moved up under the overhang with Dezirea, but Cayenne remained under the tree.
While Cyndie was busy in the barn, preparing their servings of breakfast, I rolled a wheelbarrow out to clean up the frozen manure. The horses know this routine, and tend to step up in anticipation of pending food service. As I was raking, I sensed movement and looked up to find Dezirea energetically driving Cayenne down the slope, back toward that willow tree.
Not just once. Over, and over. I counted at least six times that Cayenne moved up and Dezirea pushed her back down, sometimes, way down, taking extra strides to ensure Cayenne got the message.
I have no idea what led to this very clear message. What could have gone on last night that led to this repeated “beat down” of Cayenne? Was it something she did? Something she didn’t do?
It’s a new behavior, in distinct contrast to previous activity among the three.
We will be watching with interest to see what the days ahead may reveal.
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Dawning Colors
I couldn’t pass up Cyndie’s offer of pictures she took yesterday morning. One special thing about the short days of winter, morning chores align nicely with spectacular views of predawn light shows.
While I was inside brick walls, Cyndie and our animals had a front row seat for some of nature’s best.
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I sure wish I could have seen it live.
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Early Light
While the intense winter storm that moved out of Texas is pummeling the Carolinas and Virginia this morning, our region is bathed in calm. The air was so quiet this morning, I felt compelled to open the gate in the paddock by delicately palming the chains to avoid the usual clatter of metal on metal, while I was whispering greetings of love to the horses.
It was a perfectly brisk winter morning, but not biting cold. The chickens put in extra energy to balance on one foot, picking up the other and tucking it in their feathers to protect from the frozen tundra. The horses had frost on their whiskers, but otherwise look completely acclimated to the season of long nights.
They are contentedly munching on morning rations in that image, while the first rays of sunshine begin to paint their sides with a promise of warmth to come.
Hello, sun!
Our day will be filled with holiday projects, Cyndie in the kitchen, baking so many varieties of Christmas cookies it makes me dizzy with visions of sugar. I will be in the shop, putting sandpaper to wood, between making appearances in the house to be sociable with our kids and other family and friends who have expressed intention of showing up to be present for the great holiday bake-athon.
Every cookie I can convince them to take home with them will be one less for me to avoid.
The fire is radiating in the fireplace and the colored lights are on the tree.
Bring on the day!
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Relative Something 