Posts Tagged ‘Winter’
Please No
Not again. This morning, we are wondering what we will find when the door to the chicken coop is opened. Yesterday, Delilah once again broke a hook holding her leash and this time attacked the Buff Orpington hen.
I was up on the other side of the house splitting wood when my phone rang. Cyndie’s voice immediately revealed something was wrong.
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Intent on making my way through the entire pile of logs stacked at the base of the big oak tree, which first required sledge-hammering them out of the frozen block they had become, I had already fought off several urges to take a break and do something else.
I couldn’t deny the urgency implied by Cyndie’s call.
Rushing down to the sunny southern end of the barn, I found Cyndie standing with the chicken in her arms. She wanted me to hold the bird so she could search for visible injury that would explain the blood on the ground. Finding nothing, she took the Buff back and asked me to look.
I suggested she give the hen a chance to stand on her own and we could watch her. The Buff stood just fine, but that is when I noticed blood on the beak. It appears the injury was internal.
We are hoping maybe she just bit her tongue. She was breathing and swallowing, with some effort, and the bleeding did not appear to be continuing more than the initial small amount.
If she survived the night, the next goal will be to witness her drinking water and eventually eating food.
As soon as Cyndie had reached the dog and saved the chicken, she marched Delilah up to the house and shut her inside. When we came in for lunch, it was pretty clear the fiercely carnivorous canine was aware she had displeased her master. Her body language was all about remorse.
It was hard to not continue being extremely mad with Delilah for hurting the chicken, but that moment was now in the past.
I decided to take her out for a heavy-duty workout. Strapping on snowshoes, I headed off to pack down a path on our trails that hadn’t received much attention since the last few snowfall events.
Since Delilah has a compulsion to be out in front and pull, that meant she was breaking trail most of the way and expending more energy than normal, which worked right into my plan.
Much to Delilah’s surprise, I also had a plan to double back in the direction from which we had just come, giving me a chance to pack several of our paths a second time.
Each time that happened, Delilah would race to come back toward me and then pass by to get out in front again, pulling against the leash to which I gladly added drag.
I’m pretty sure any energy she got from engaging in the attack was long gone after her unusually intense afternoon walkabout, but I doubt she fully grasps that our earlier displeasure was because the chickens hold protected status.
We’re not confident, but we hope we’ll still have three chickens to continue teaching Delilah to leave alone, despite her irresistible canine instincts.
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Monday After
News reports warned that MSP airport was going to be a busy place this morning, as Super Bowl attendees from out of town would be flying home in droves. I wonder if workplaces are going to be quiet this morning. I was up past my bedtime last night.
Before becoming a major couch potato for too many hours around the actual game time yesterday, I spent a lot of hours outside in the brilliant sunshine plowing and shoveling.
There is something really satisfying about a freshly plowed path. I enjoy it while I can, because in no time, there will be another snowfall and it will lose that just-cleaned look.
Even though it was single-digit cold, the sun showed its power against the snow on the window of our truck.
I prefer watching the environment slowly clean off the truck as opposed to sweeping the snow off all at once. Silly me. It’s just the opposite of how I appreciate the good clean look of the driveway after it’s been plowed.
Congratulations, Philadelphia Eagles fans!
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Super Sunday
It’s finally here. The big NFL game is happening in Minnesota this year and the hyped up media have whipped things into a frenzy for the last few days. I will be glad when it is all just a memory and we can get back to normal around in the Twin Cities.
Visitors were treated to a day of beautiful falling snow yesterday, and this morning, below zero cold with dangerous wind chills. This is the way we do winter.
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I gave Delilah a workout yesterday, making her leap through deep snow in an off-trail walk across some of our fields. I tried to capture the beauty of the falling flakes in the shot back toward the barns, and ended up getting one little blurry flake to show up.
At the time I pulled out the camera, we were out on a wind-swept slope covered by hardly any snow. Delilah took great fascination with some scent that grabbed her attention and scratched at the frozen ground, layed down and rubbed her fur against it repeatedly.
Now I need to go out and plow.
That’s another way we do winter.
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Bold North
There’s a new slogan in town that arose from the committee responsible for landing this year’s Super Bowl game and coordinating all the related local events around it. The motto being brandished everywhere we look is, “Bold North.”
I like it. It speaks of the harsh reality we face in carrying on with our everyday lives regardless the extremes of weather our northern location dishes out. I take pride in being able to tolerate the ridiculous cold or the stifling heat which we face, both happening within a span of mere months from each other.
However, and I really hate to whine about this, there are times when the bitter cold can really become an excessively excruciating pain in the butt, …and the ears, toes, fingers, nose, and even eyes.
We haven’t even received a bill yet for the last time the vet was here when the extreme cold contributed to ending Legacy’s life, and now we need the doc back this morning to take a look at Hunter at a time when it is again so cold that the tools of an equine veterinarian barely function.
It’s hard on the horse and hard on the doctor trying to help him.
That makes it hard on us.
We ran an errand last night to pick up a propane heater in hopes of taking a little of the edge off for the vet while he is working in the barn.
I don’t think I was as grateful as I should have been for the relative luck we had in the prior four years of being first-time horse owners. I basically had no idea what I was doing when it came to being responsible for the ultimate well-being of our herd. Some days I would return from feeding them and realize, if asked how they were doing, I hadn’t really even looked them over all that closely.
I guess that set me up to have a sense that problems were few and far between, and I came to see that as normal.
This past year it feels as though it’s been one issue after another.
Instead of things getting easier with time and experience, we are in a phase of experiencing just the opposite, and it seems to be reaching peaks of difficulty that coincide with drops in temperature.
It’s got me feeling not so bold, after all. In fact, I caught myself having thoughts last night of the type that snowbirds express, like wishing to be somewhere warm during winter.
It’s a blaspheme of what I hold sacred!
I’m from Minnesota! The bold north! I love winter!
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Playful Moments
Despite the undercurrent of grief and uncertainty for us around the ranch lately, there are still moments of blissful play that arise organically without warning. Over the weekend, Cyndie and I headed out with Delilah to give her another chance to explore of her own free will through the middle of our woods.
That canine radiates like a kid in a candy store when we let her rush around through the trees chasing wherever her nose leads. I’m embarrassed to admit that we tolerate her pauses to root out deer droppings because it allows us to catch our breath after the jungle-gym challenge of navigating branches to keep up with her.
When the trail exits the trees and follows the pasture fence around the property, Delilah falls in line without objection and resumes her usual routine of walking the path.
What she didn’t realize on Saturday was, I had a plan to crawl through the fence to romp with her in the hay-field.
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It is so much fun to watch her reaction when she suddenly catches on to my idea.
“Oh boy! We are going to play in the big snow!”
Although, it wasn’t very big snow any more, after a few days of warmth and sunshine. It’s beautiful to look at, but a hassle to walk, with the crust not being strong enough to support our weight. Delilah had a little easier time of it, but even she broke through on occasion.
When I collapsed from exhaustion, Cyndie pulled out her phone to take pictures of Delilah showing off that she wasn’t tired yet.
Mother nature is a major part of our life out in the rural acres. It can be harsh and wonderful all at the same time. I expect we will get more snow storms as winter plays out, but right now we are dealing with hazards that are more common in March, like dangerously slippery ice from melting snow that has re-frozen.
At the same time, we can play outside without a jacket on. Or, make that “could,” as that warm spell is already over and we are now back to a big chill again.
As I’ve written before, the weather brings adventure to us.
Tomorrow, we get the added bonus of a triple-treat full moon. It will be another “super moon,” with the orbit closest to the Earth. It’s a “blue moon,” because it’s the second full moon this month. Lastly, it will be a “blood moon,” for about an hour with reddish coloring from an eclipse.
What’s not to love about that?
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Tragic Breakup
The beautiful snowstorm of last Monday is mostly a memory. The 14-inches of accumulation that poured down on us in a matter of hours during the day has been drastically reduced by a few subsequent days of an above-freezing thaw.
Grass became exposed where I plowed or shoveled, pavement showed through on the driveway, and the deck got as clear as a summer day.
I was gazing out at that deck yesterday when I spotted a tragic result of all that snow.
One of the prominent pine trees near the house had lost its top, as the two main leaders split apart and toppled away from each other.
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Meanwhile, despite the areas of pavement that were dry, the slope beyond the shop garage remained an icy challenge that a FedEx delivery truck was unable to successfully cross.
Moments after delivering his package, Delilah’s barking alerted me to the driver trotting back up toward our house. He’d slid off the driveway into the snow bank and wondered if I could pull him out.
We tried several options, seeking the least complicated solutions first, but everything led his truck deeper into trouble until I got out the diesel tractor. Using the trick of wedging the loader bucket against the driveway and using the hydraulic force to “walk” the tractor backwards, we successfully got the truck out of the snow and back up on the icy driveway surface, which we had smartly covered with grit from our pile of lyme screenings.
That allowed the driver to roll forward off the riskiest segment of ice and out of the most hazardous section of the driveway.
We shared a laugh over how nice yesterday’s warm weather was and how far removed it was from the drama of Monday’s storm, yet the results of that storm were still having all this impact on our lives.
The ditched truck was a quick resolution, but the tragic breakup of our tree will linger as a long-term reminder of the harsh realities that come along with the beauty of these big snowfalls.
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More Science
This is so cool. In a wonderful compliment to the fascinating sublimation of ice off our deck that I wrote about last week, yesterday we were treated to the other side of that coin, so to speak: deposition.
The air is loaded with moisture this week, and we are experiencing some gorgeous hoar-frost.
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“When these water vapor molecules contact a subfreezing surface, such as a blade of grass, they jump directly from the gas state to solid state, a process known as “deposition”, leading to a coating of tiny ice crystals.”
Hoarfrost: The Science Behind Frost on Steroids
By Jon Erdman – October 20 2015 07:00 AM EDT – weather.com
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The scenery on my drive home from work yesterday just kept getting more and more spectacular as I approached our ranch. Views of the hillsides covered with flocked trees across the landscape are absolutely intoxicating.
The first time I saw a Christmas tree flocked completely white when I was a kid, I thought it looked ridiculous. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would want such a bizarre looking tree. In time, I came to recognize the artificial trees were mimicking the inspiring look of hoar-frost.
Now I understand, sort of.
While out walking to a high spot in the hay-field with Delilah to take pictures of the barn with the flocked trees as a backdrop, I received a vivid demonstration of how much our darling Belgian Tervuren enjoys snow. In a blink, she appeared to regress back to a puppy and romped in the deep powder with reckless abandon.
It is rewarding to see her so happy, as she has suffered a bit of neglect in the last few weeks, between Cyndie’s illness and the sudden death of Legacy. She has been very patient and a wonderful companion during this time, which leads us to want to reward her with opportunities to play and be the center of our attention again.
It’s another kind of science. Animal love.
Letting a dog thrive at doing what dogs love to do with the people who take care of them.
Getting to do it in a natural wonderland of spectacular frosted trees is a bonus!
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Looking Around
Without a doubt, one of the best rewards for receiving over a foot of snow in one day is the beautiful landscape views we get to enjoy for days after.
Cyndie has been capturing and sharing a series of sunrise photos for me in the last couple of weeks. This fleeting glimpse of sunshine from yesterday was the only view of the ball of fire that she got all day. Clouds filled in shortly after the picture was taken and gray ruled the rest of the day.
Luckily, it just so happens that a gray winter sky provides really nice light for taking pictures.
I think Cyndie has acquired a keen sense of what appeals to me in photographs.
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If she had put these images on my computer without telling me, I would have thought I’d taken the pictures myself.
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So Much
What a difference a day makes. On Monday, the storm was inundating us with so much snow that we struggled to deal with it. The intensity created an impression that it might never end. Yesterday, if it weren’t for the huge amount of snow now covering everything, it was as if the storm had never happened. It’s like the drama of Monday was just a dream.
Yesterday, the interstate was almost dry, the sun was out, and visibility was crystal clear.
When I got home from work, I had to immediately pick up where I had left of with the plowing on Monday. After a few quick passes up and down the driveway to clear the couple of inches that had fallen overnight, I focused my attention on clearing the area around the hay shed and barn.
It was a laborious and tedious process of wrestling the Grizzly through deep snow, on the icy slope dropping from the driveway to the barn. I got stuck several times, but scrambled my way out each time by some crazy maneuvering back and forth, to and fro.
Other than some cleanup needed around the edges with a shovel, I’m declaring the driveways now complete.
You know that clean deck I was showing off a week or so ago?
That will be the next project. The wind didn’t blow it clean this time.
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Relative Something 