Day: February 25, 2011

The day  began walking Rose up the hill. Maria came but we never made it back. A farm is a hungry place in so many ways. Farms are all about chores, they shape and define life, and you are never done with them, and animals and weather test the ones you have done. In winters like this, hay has to be good and stored, fences have to hold, water systems have to work, doors and windows need to be kept clear. That’s all there is to it.

A farm has so many parts. Water, fences, paths, sliding doors, buckets, hay, manure to clear. This kind of storm started out raging and didn’t quit. For once, Storm Center understated things. It was a lot worse than we expected, and the farmhouse is engulfed in snow all around. Chris Barrett made two trips and barely got a dent in it.  Tomorrow, heading to Clifton Park Library for the first of four story-telling classes and I am looking forward to it.

I think we’ll get plowed out by then. I think the donkeys will be in the barn for a couple of days, the longest indoor stint of their lives. There is nowhere for them to go. A few minutes ago, we went out to the barn to check on things. The wind is still blowing hard, drifts piling up. The path we shoveled an hour ago is gone. It is quieting, thought. I am grateful Maria is here. I remember so many times doing this by myself. A lot messier.

I feel good about the way we have weathered this winter. We have complained little, taken lots of good photos, and managed to shovel and plan our way through things. Our first hard winter as a couple, and we did well. I don’t care how much snow is out there, you can see Spring coming in the light, and photographer’s always see that right away.

I’ve added video the story-telling and I like it, but I don’t want to get carried away by it. I like the form of the blog and wouldn’t want ot change it too much. But at the same time, it has opened up a whole new channel for me, literally and figuratively. Maria says I’m a visual person. Never thought of myself that way, but there is something to it.

It’s a bit shocking to see h ow much snow is piled up around the farm. It is at least waist high. We’ve been shoveling all day there is at least another foot, maybe two, on top of what was there. The donkeys will be in the barn for several days as there is simply no place for them to go. The dogs have to plow through snow everywhere they go, and the border collies really aren’t built for it, although Lenore and Frieda seem to have no trouble.

Even the old-timers are hard-pressed to remember a winter so unrelenting. It has been eerily beautiful, and good for my photography. But we will have a difficult Spring, when all this melts. So much damage to roofs and foundations. And we are both tired. Going outside for any reason is a challenge. And on a farm, you go outside a lot.

Got some good news today. My first children’s book, “Meet The Dogs Of Bedlam Farm” has gone into its 2nd Printing, two months before publication. That’s great, along with some wonderfully generous reviews. I’m excited about the book and will go on tour in early May for it. Looks like New York City, Boston, Cincinnati, Portland and Seattle. Plus a new web page and some videos. I’m going to read the book to the dogs and put out a video of that, courtesy of Dave Bigler Productions.

I went out to check on the animals in the barn:

Checking on the cats and donkeys in the barn

Of all the animals I have known, Lenore is the most connected to the winter, to snow. It is as comfortable for her as a carpet, and she loves to sit in the snow and contemplate things, turning her head to the winds to catch the stories they bring.  I often sit out in the snow with her, and I love it. It is a contemplative thing, even today, in the storm, in the high winds which blew snow all over her, yet barely distracted her.

It was very windy, very cold, and snowing heavily when we sat down together. Lenore is a spirit dog. She touches people in a powerful way. You are invited to a snow meditation with her. I’m pleased to share the experience with you. Lenore is an intensely spiritual creature.

I could tell you about it, as a writer, or you can come along for yourself, courtesty of video, and my discovery of the moving story.

On the path, the dogs evoke their mysticism, their connections to nature, their senses beyond our comprehension.

I think on the path, their real spirits emerge.

The Birdbath, like the winter pasture, suggests expectation, reminds us even on the harshest winter day of Spring. As light follows darkness, Spring follows winter, and this one promises to be sweet and fertile.