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I went out just before and after the heavy rains, which are expected all day. I seem to have a new friend, a Pigeon who appears on the big barn roof every time I come out in the morning. At first, I thought I was looking at him, but after a few days, I realized he is also looking at me.

A Pigeon friend is new; I’ll have to think about it. When I lived in New York City, people called pigeons rats with wings.

Since a flock moved into our barn and nested there, we feel differently about them.

He’s always there when I come out, especially in the morning. If this keeps up, I’ll have to give him a name – Ron, maybe. We never feed the birds outside a bird feeder, and the pigeons never eat at the feeders,  so I don’t think he’s expecting that.

 

A blog reader is upset with me for posting images of Minnie as she fails. She asked why I would subject my readers to that. I told her that the reason was that my readers have asked to know how Minnie was doing. That’s a good reason for me.

She doesn’t have to look at or read about Minnie if she doesn’t like it instead of writing angry notes. I always wonder why people don’t seem able or willing to think of that.

I think many people forget – thanks partly to social media – how to think for themselves anymore or be polite. I always remember, even online, that I’m dealing with another human. It encourages me to be civil, although I sometimes fail. I’m working on that.

We haven’t seen Minnie since yesterday afternoon. We believe she has moved under the porch, perhaps for good. If we can, we will bury her when she dies behind one of the gardens near Flo and Gus.

Sorry, grumpy reader. Some people have been following Minnie’s life for 16 years.

They deserve to know how she’s doing. Minnie isn’t eating anymore.

I caught the flowers above as the sun set yesterday before it got rainy and gloomy. They seemed enchanted to me. I’m off to the Mansion for Meditation Class; today, we’re reading from Henri Nouwen and the wonderful Joan Chittister. I’m reading a Chapter on Mother Teresa’s advice on how to live a good life.

 

 

 

I think of the two flowers above as twins, they’ve grown up side by side.

Windowsill gallery.

 

 

The three hens gather on the porch looking for Minnie, it seems. They were standing guard.

Right after a rain storm.

Welcome to my new morning walk, something I want to do every morning, and those who wish to come are invited along. This morning, my eye was caught by the beautiful blue sky and some flowers popping up in my raised bed with a roar. You are invited to come along this and every morning.

Maria and I are headed to the Post Office to shop for vegetables. Tomorrow our friend Katie is leading her Bollywood Dancers in a dance at the Farmer’s Market. I will be there. This afternoon, Maria takes me on a canal ride next to the Hudson River. I’m psyched.

Every morning, the flowers are different.

I took a quick walk around the farm this morning and wanted to share that with you. I’m heading to buy some groceries and maybe pick up a new flower or two.

Maria is taking me on a 90-minute canal boat ride in Schuylerville for my birthday tomorrow.

Sunday, we’re going to see a play at the Dorset Playhouse in Vermont. It’s the last play of the season (boo!)

Come and take the morning walk with me.

From the Windowsill Gallery, Wildflowers

The Morning Star

Chickens peeking in the bathroom windows.

The Morning Sky was angry. More rain is coming.

Opening up the pasture for grazing,

The Red Begonia

The Raven

After breakfast, Maria and I walk around our magical farm every morning. There is always something beautiful to see, something new, something born, something dying, something I want to talk about or take a picture of. I love being around nature; Maria has come to love being in nature.

This has greatly enriched my life here. It was, in a way, the missing ingredient. I was drawn here to be in nature but not always able to grasp it. I was a city boy all my life, as my friend Ed Gulley used to point out every chance he had.

Today’s walk was short, beautiful, and unique. Come along with us on our walk. This is what the Bedlam Farm Journal is all about.

On our inspections, we discuss the animals and look around for new and old things.

Maria also talks about plants, insects, spiders, birds in nests, Herons and ravens, animal tracks, and scat. This has opened up a whole new world for me. I love to look at nature, but I rarely stop to know what I am looking at. My photography is changing that. So is my wife.

Maria is taking the trouble to know what she is looking at. She takes videos and pictures, does meditations, and takes and writes excellent notes for her blog. The natural world has become her Temple, just as it became a Temple for Maria Oliver. Our walks show up in all of our creativity. I especially enjoy watching her rescue all kinds of bugs from the water tank. I swear they know her by now. She sits with frogs at the pond and talks to Ravens flying overhead.

It is a festival of life.

Our walks infuse our art, her quilts, pictures, and blog. This and our animals and life’s challenges keep the blog rich and fertile, at least for me, and I hope for you.

First, the flowers, the barn, the pastures, and the woods. I can’t walk in the deep woods in the summer any longer, but I can get close.

After lunch, we’ll see Cindy Casavant and her baby goats. More later.

A Geranium snuck up through the Rose Bush to meet her Love.

 

The animals are like we spread out in the barn. It’s clean and soft.

A beautiful pink, shrouded by buds.

 

 

Sox likes to know what’s going on. She keeps an eye on us.

So does Lulu. She always waits for us at the gate and walks wherever we go in the pastures.

Maria lives in nature, always learning, noticing, recording, and researching. I love her Notes From The Woods; if anything should be a book, that should. She says she looks like a British Nature Lady, but I think she looks like Maria.

The country has beauty everywhere, even when looking at the Purple Cat Tails.

That shade of blue gets to me every time.

 

Kim, our shyest sheep. She is never at ease with a human. She is even scared of Zinnia. She is the one animal we have never gotten close to.

 

Last but not least, we are preparing to say goodbye to our barn swallow newcomers; they are about to take off into the world. (Photo by Maria Wulf)