Franklin County
Well, it's been a couple of days since the "big storm" and digging out is still happening around the Chesterville area. Around 28 inches of new snow fell here, and snow banks are dangerously high all around the roads.
It's been too cold this winter to really enjoy the great outdoors, here in Chesterville -- for me, anyway. Not that I'm a warm-blooded southerner, used to swaying palm trees and soft ocean breezes (by the way, doesn't that sound great right now?)
As many of you know who read this blog, from time to time I write about growing up on a dairy farm in the Adirondacks in the 1960s and '70s. As a kid you don't always know the struggles your parents go through when times are tough on a farm, but you know enough.
I've written an earlier blog mainly about the four-footed visitors to the farmhouse. This time of year, the opportunities abound to observe the two-footed kind. The bitter cold this year seems to be driving more birds to the feeders.
A Time to Talk
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, "What is it?"
No, not as there is time to talk.
Blade-end up and five feet tall.
It's that time of year again: snow is falling, the Thanksgiving bird is on its way to becoming soup, and cars pass you by, topped by the perfect Christmas tree, trussed up tighter than that turkey you had last week. The hunt has begun.
The first real coating of snow that lasted a few days fell in Chesterville over this Thanksgiving weekend. The old farmhouse, even with its K1 heaters, fireplaces and cast-iron stoves, can feel a little drafty in the middle of a windy storm.
Thanksgiving is upon us. Another year has gone by and the holiday season is here. Catalogs and fliers stuff the mailbox and immediately fill the recycling bin. This year Christmas sales seem to have begun before Halloween.
NOW CLOSE THE WINDOWS
Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.
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