Posts Tagged ‘weather’
Predatory Behavior
Last Sunday, we were blessed with a visit from our kids for one last day of mirth before the return to regularly scheduled programming of the work world in 2026. The weather was a bit of a risk as we were under a warning for sleet and freezing rain. They braved the drive anyway, with utmost caution, and the weather didn’t turn out to be as bad as it could have been.
As soon as they headed home and Cyndie and I went down to tend to the horses, the murky sky opened up a bit for a sweet show at sunset.
Two days later, we received what I feel is the worst weather for winter: rain. Once again, the snow is a saturated mess. I took Asher for an afternoon explore, and he fixated on a dead tree trunk that he seemed certain contained a rodent snack.
I stood waiting while he worked furiously to gain access. Seeing him so harmlessly entertained is a reward worth allowing to play out uninterrupted, so I busied myself with tamping down the wet snow where I stood.
He showed no sign of giving up and began to attack the little trees in the immediate vicinity that were getting in his way. They served to fulfill his urge to chomp on things better than any of the artificial chew toys in his extensive collection in the house.
He worked on that effort for so long, my project of tamping snow grew to create a raised median at the intersection of the two trails where he was busy at it.
As much as I wished to let him play to his heart’s content, his distraction had lasted so long that it became time to feed the horses, and I was forced to call him off. We trundled away through the snow slurry toward the barn after a minor struggle to redirect his attention away from the prize he never reached.
If there was a mouse in there, I wonder what its experience was like during the onslaught. Did it assume there was an earthquake, or did it sense the telltale signs of a predator at its door?
I think I can relate to what it must have been like inside that hollow section of the tree limb. That is what it feels like every day for citizens of the United States under the criminal control of the current administration. If only there were someone who could call off the brutal regime and send them on their way.
That terrorized critter suffered for less than an hour. Our suffering shows no signs of abating.
To the rest of the world: I’m sorry you have to witness this, or worse yet, be directly impacted by the actions of the disgusting few who are systematically dismantling our country for their personal gain.
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Arriving Momentarily
This morning, most of the paddock’s surface is a miserable, wet, icy, packed remnant of previous snowfalls. We’ve experienced about a week of similar misty, foggy, above-freezing days. If I did not have the benefit of meteorological forecasts, I would be entirely unsuspecting of what lies in store for us today.
I can’t think of what more we could be doing in preparation. Yesterday, Cyndie made a run for groceries, and while she was out, she picked up a bottle of graphene spray coating that I applied to the snowplow blade. I’m not confident how effective it will prove to be, but I suspect it should be better than nothing.
It wasn’t raining while we were out feeding the horses a half hour ago, even though the radar makes it look like it could be.
I’ve got my jaw clenched in anticipation of the least pleasant start of a significant snow event. Rain, turning to sleet, before gradually changing over to snow that will be driven horizontally by gale-force winds. Yum yum.
It’s a good thing I love winter. Otherwise, think of how much more miserable this would seem. Ignore my whining. I’ll be out playing in it like a happy little kid soon.
Cyndie is making waffles for breakfast. I’m going to start a fire in the fireplace.
We know how to do this.
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Erratic Storming
What a day of weather we experienced at Wintervale yesterday! Despite all the fence trimming I was hoping to accomplish, the repeated downpours we received prevented me from achieving that goal. The dew point temperature was in the low 70s°F when we woke up, and none of the storms throughout the day did much to change that. The air stayed thick, feeding that energy to the waves of storms that rolled over, one after another.
Before we stepped out the front door to walk Asher and tend to the horses, Cyndie commented with surprise that it looked like it had already rained. I thought that strange, as I walked through the house from our bedroom, because the deck was still dry.
Then Cyndie figured out she had left a sprinkler on all night. Oops. That was probably helping to keep the humidity up.
We were expecting a delivery of a pallet of food for the horses, so we opened the barn and hoped it would come soon. Thankfully, it didn’t arrive so soon that it got caught in the first energetic thunderstorm.
When we received notice that they were a half-hour out, I headed down to the barn to be ready to guide the delivery. I found the horses calmly sharing space under one side of the overhang.
Every time the other three don’t chase Mia out from under the roof line during bad weather is a victory in our eyes. I had to capture the moment with a photo. Of course, the whole other side was wide open for shelter, but for some reason beyond my understanding, the horses seem to have an aversion to taking advantage of such a simple solution.
The rain suddenly paused just long enough that the feed delivery was completed without getting soaked. The driver said that wasn’t the case on his prior stop, after which he followed the storm the whole way to our place, watching the brilliant lightning strikes on the back edge of the squall. While I was standing with the horses waiting for him to arrive, we witnessed one of those fascinating strikes split into two zagging streaks, followed so closely by the bang of thunder that both the horses and I flinched because it felt too close for comfort.
Each time we thought the worst had moved beyond us, and the sky was getting lighter, a blast of thunder announced the arrival of another dose of heavy weather.
Around dinner time, Cyndie checked the rain gauge and announced that 5 inches had been collected during the day. That seemed a bit of a shock to me, so I asked her to find out what was in the gauge down by the labyrinth next time she walked Asher. It struck her as odd that it only held 1-and-a-half inches.
A while later, she figured it out. The first rain gauge by the house was where she had left the sprinkler on all night. Yeah, oops. Sometimes, we humans can be our own worst enemies.
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Isolated Downpours
We experienced wild weather yesterday evening, which is becoming more normal with each successive occurrence. Just as we were getting ready to head out to a local restaurant for dinner, the unexpected sound of thunder rumbled in the sky. A quick check of the radar revealed a small squall forming out of nothing.
We scrambled to get into the car before the fat, early drops became a soaking shower. As we drove toward Hayward, the wet road told a story of a significant downpour that must have just happened moments before. The combination of the whopping dose of precipitation and the large areas of wide open sky around the closest bursting cloud produced the widest bands of rainbow colors any of us had ever seen.
As entertaining as that was, we were soon presented with an even more dramatic mini-hurricane at the time we were paying our dinner bill. When we heard the boom of thunder, out came the weather radar screens on our phones. As Julian and I were debating whether the isolated red/orange/yellow blob would pass harmlessly around our location, I noticed it was starting to hail outside.
That was quickly augmented with gushing rainfall and high winds blowing the rain and hail sideways. Flash flooding swiftly resulted. We delayed our departure until the rain ended, but the intensity of the downpour was easily seen in the debris that had floated across the traffic lanes and the large puddles and runoff present wherever there was a low spot.
The sun was getting lower, but the surrounding areas of blue sky allowed enough light to illuminate another entertaining rainbow(s) that Julian caught while I drove.
I am no longer surprised by uncharacteristically heavy downpours because they are repeatedly happening often enough to have become “characteristic” these days.
Why, it’s as if, when it rains, it pours.
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Weather Wallop
We got smacked to a degree I didn’t anticipate yesterday with a combination of multiple inches of rain in uncomfortably cold temperatures while strong wind gusts blasted us mercilessly. We still had the small paddock closed off, which constrained the horses to having access to only one side of the overhang for shelter.
Just to keep things from being simple to deal with, on Monday, Cyndie got a COVID vaccination booster that had her feeling poorly by yesterday morning. That left it to me to tend to the horses in conditions that were teetering on completely out of control.
The poor girls were shivering desperately and very anxious to get their servings of grain to take their minds off the misery. Serving them became a crazy ad-lib as I tried to maintain some order and control while moving their serving stations on the fly to try giving access out of the rain for each horse.
Thankfully, they were moderately cooperative as they were well aware of the predicament we were all in. After doing my best to give them the bare minimum comforts available in the moment, I took Asher back up to the house for his breakfast.
A short time later, our new person from This Old Horse, Maddy, showed up with doses of dewormer for the horses. She picked up where I left off in trying to find a way to give the horses some advantage against the weather. I joined her and we decided to try moving them inside to the individual stalls.
We got them in, but we couldn’t get Mix to settle down. The other three seemed to figure out they were out of the wind and rain, they had food and water, and no other horse was trying to invade their space. Sadly, I got the impression that Mix was triggered and having a major PTSD reaction to the confinement.
Subsequently, Mix’s prolonged stress, demonstrated in kicking the walls, biting boards, and general flailing about, began to UNsettle the others. We tried changing the horse next to Mix by swapping the positions of Swings and Mia, but it didn’t make enough difference in Mix’s tantruming.
Instead of drying out, Mix was lathering up in her own sweat. We ended up putting blankets on them and letting them back outside after I strung another temporary barrier that at least allowed them access to both sides of the overhang.
A little over a week after setting up fans to cool them in high heat, we now have the horses wearing blankets in the latter half of May.
A windy, rainy, 40°F weather wallop, indeed.
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Feeling (C)old
Three days ago, our temperatures were around 80°F. Welcome to spring in the Northland. That unseasonal warmth brought an overnight storm with heavy rain and loads of lightning and thunder. Most of the day yesterday dragged on with a dreary occasional mist and temps hovering in the very chilly mid-30s.
Around dinnertime, the temperature dropped below freezing.
Just 47 minutes later, it looked like this outside:
Hot and cold weather always bounces back and forth this time of year, so we should be well-adjusted to coping with the changes, but the return of wintery chills and snow never fails to feel like an undeserved punishment.
It’s the final day of March. I could hope that this is the last blanketing of snow we will get for the season, but ever since going through the extreme experience of receiving 18 inches of snow on May 2nd, 2013, I won’t assume we are in the clear until the calendar flips to June.
Cyndie tried convincing Mia to wear a light blanket for protection against the wetness, but Mia wasn’t interested. I figure she didn’t want to look different than the other Mares. All four of them seem to be coping just fine, as they almost always do.
I’ve got coping skills of my own that I’ve been executing. Lounging in the recliner by the fireplace, eating more than I should, adding a few inches and pounds of insulation around my middle, and napping whenever my tired eyes keep trying to stay closed. It feels an awful lot like my impression of what getting old must be like.
My initiative to maintain an exercise routine for back health and strong core muscles has done a disappearing act. Now in my mid-60s, I seem to have experienced a shift of my own from hot to cold. My morning workouts now tend to involve more cerebral pursuits like Wordle, Strands, and Connections in the NY Times games suite and sporadic stabs at Words With Friends competitions.
My aging is getting more obvious now that mental exercise has become just as tiring as my physical workouts once were.
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False Alarm
That didn’t happen. Not only did we dodge the threat of snow, but the winds barely rose above a typical spring day. I am not complaining. It was an interesting phenomenon where the weather radar showed precipitation in the form of snow overhead for most of the day, but nothing was making it out of the clouds.
One day earlier, I captured a picture of sun rays making it through the clouds.
Yesterday wasn’t very photogenic while I was walking with Asher. When we came out of the barn after feeding the horses and came around the corner of the hay shed, we found the neighbor’s cat crouched with its attention focused on something other than us behind the shed. Asher lurched and startled the cat, who then made a hasty sprint for cover.
Poor Asher let loose with a series of his whiny barks that sound like a really distressed dog is being abused by its owner. The only abuse I was guilty of was not letting the poor guy run after the cat.
The pictures I was taking yesterday were indoors, where I captured the latest view of the new shoot on our bird of paradise plant…
Compare that to how it looked a month ago:
We’ve got another new leaf in our future with this amazing transplant and that is no false alarm!
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Awaiting Winds
A day or two ago, we were on alert for another dump of snow from a winter storm the Weather Channel has named “Nyla” that will pass over us today. As of last night, the forecast was adjusted to most likely not produce blockbuster amounts of snow but will be noteworthy for its strong winds.
I am not a fan of high winds.
Yesterday, Asher and I took full advantage of the calm before the storm and lounged against the hay shed to watch the horses and listen to the pheasant squawks and the honks of low-flying goose pairs in the filtered sunlight shining through thin clouds.
Tucked up against the nook of the shed doors, the breeze was minimal, and we were able to bask in the radiating solar energy absorbed by the metal. When you know that the following day will be dramatically less inviting for such leisurely pursuits, the value of moments like that becomes noticeably heightened.
I always wonder if the horses have any inkling of the change coming our way. I try to warn them, but I suspect they are disinclined to pay much heed to my bantering.
Yesterday afternoon, when I showed up to start my routine with cleaning up under the overhang, Swings made a rare approach to my immediate space. I greeted her and carried on with my tasks. When she twice followed my movements and then finally rubbed her entire side firmly against a hay bag as she passed it, I got the message.
I set down the manure scoop and gave her a full-body scratching and loving massages. It is one of the more precious moments with these mares since they hardly ever show interest in receiving prolonged touch from us. I was also grateful to the other three for allowing us the uninterrupted time together. That is also a rare occurrence that one of them doesn’t want to nose in on another horse getting special attention.
On one of my walks with Asher earlier in the day, I took a picture that captures the orientation of all of our buildings, although the house is still mostly obscured behind trees.
It shows how the hay shed doors capture the sunlight. You can see how the barn is positioned so the overhang is protected from winds out of the northwest, both from its orientation and the fact it is tucked beneath higher ground behind it with plenty of tall trees providing additional windbreak. Just above the roofline of the hay shed is the shop garage. Uphill from that garage and directly behind the barn from this vantage point is where our house is located.
Here’s hoping no trees suffer damage from any accumulation of snow that will add stress to the pressure of the harsh winds blowing our way today.
Hang on to your hats when you’re reading this!
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Pretty Colors
Have I written much about the weather lately? When I’m trying to pretend my country isn’t spiraling ridiculously down the proverbial drain, the weather provides a convenient distraction. One thing I appreciate about weather is that the conditions I experience right outside our door are the pure truth. It is hard to gaslight me and tell me that the snow falling isn’t actually falling when I can see it absolutely is.
In the dark of night last evening, we could hear the pelting rain on the roof, but the radar image of the storm revealed the full gamut of what was swirling our way.
So many pretty colors! I am curious what we will find when dawn breaks. The ground was completely covered in white when we headed for bed last night.
We have been warned about the probability of heavy, wet snow in the amounts of 4-8 inches. I’m not looking forward to the effort of pushing wet snow off the driveway with the ATV plow. At least I have the benefit of sun and melting temperatures expected to follow this batch of precipitation. I can get away with doing a rudimentary job of exposing pavement. Solar energy will clean up the asphalt in short order.
My plan at the beginning of this week was to head out today for a solo mini-vacation to the lake for a few days. Cyndie just returned from California for the second visit in several weeks and will be leaving for Florida next week, so my getaway is a chance to balance the workload of taking care of the ranch alone.
I will relish the time free from dog walking and horse care since they become my exclusive priorities whenever Cyndie is away. I love the job, I really do, but I also love the opportunity to stay in bed for as long as my brain and body desire and then do whatever I want for the rest of a day without worrying about any other tasks that need to happen.
Sometimes, the best adventure is no adventure at all. Or, the adventure is in following whatever whim shows up and letting it play out for as long as it holds interest before dashing off after whatever shiny thing grabs one’s attention next.
I’m only slightly embarrassed to admit how often the adventure I long to experience involves lounging in bed well past a decent hour and falling back to sleep whenever sleep beckons. Some of the best dreams come to me in the morning hours. My mind is most creative in the morning. I have found that most of the time when I have mentally conjured up solutions to the world’s problems, it has been before dawn. Like a dream, I tend to forget those solutions by breakfast time.
Maybe tomorrow, I will wake up at the lake and take a crack at the long, slow effort to get out of bed. It all depends on when snow stops falling and how long it takes me to plow and shovel pathways for Cyndie to navigate while I’m gone.
That is today’s adventure.
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As Expected
The National Weather Service warnings were spot-on for our area yesterday. Asher and I headed out for the morning walk into the snowstorm, fully prepared for the worst. It wasn’t the most difficult of conditions we’ve faced, but it was challenging. My legs got a good workout trying to keep up with Asher as he pranced through the snow with little in the way of extra effort.
There was just enough snow to make my trudging in stiff boots much less efficient.
The horses looked like they had chosen to spend the night outside the protection of the overhang despite the heavy precipitation.
There was enough snow blown into those spaces that it probably didn’t matter either way. The wind was blowing from the wrong direction for the overhang to provide its best shelter from the elements.
I spent much of the day plowing and shoveling. Got the driveway cleared just as Cyndie was pulling in, which was nice for both of us. The road didn’t get plowed until late afternoon. It knocked the mailbox off its base, which surprised me. I thought it was dry enough snow it wouldn’t pack such a punch.
I guess not everything went as expected.
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Relative Something 