A Clean Barn in January

During the winter months, only the necessary barn chores get done. Daylight is in short supply, and cold weather is not.

Chore time is spent breaking ice from buckets, carrying hay, thawing latches, taking off and putting on my gloves.

Manure piles up.

Cobwebs grow and multiply.

Baling twine hangs like tinsel from stall doors, hay bales, hooks.

Loose hay covers the ground.

The barn counter becomes littered with my trusty hair dryer, pens and notes, gloves, dust, ear tags, chicken leg bands, dog leashes, broken latches, fences handles and other things the soil has heaved up during its freeze and thaw cycles.

But this weekend, temperatures climbed into the 60's, and I headed to the barn to clean.

I knocked down cobwebs, put away buckets, cleaned off the counter, raked up loose hay and hauled away wheelbarrows full of manure.

The barn looks orderly. It looks presentable.

Maybe, just maybe, it can stay this way for lambing season, I think.

And then I glance at the calendar.

Lambing season is six weeks away.

I study the weather forecast.

The cold weather returns this week.

So I settle for sitting on the mounting block, listening to the horses munch hay, and admiring a moment of barn orderliness.

Gratitude--Morning Walks with Dogs

I am grateful for frost-covered mornings in November and remaining bits of fall color.

And for Border collies who insist on the morning walk, no matter the weather.

Ice crystals formed on the pond overnight, but calm winds and a rising sun make it pleasant for walking.

As always, the dogs inspect the pond.

But, unlike me, they aren't mesmerized by the reflections.

They don't stop to ponder how every side of the pond throws a reflection.

We return home to a fire in the wood stove.

And delight in its warmth.

Color in February

The snow on the ground and sheets on the clothesline create swaths of white on a winter afternoon.

But it is sunny and in the mid-40s and the smell of sun-dried sheets freshens the house.

February in Ohio can seem the dreariest of months, but on a sunny day, as the sun melts, I find color.

When walking the dogs down a farm lane, I look beneath the cedar tree and find blue.

And, when working Raven in the sheep pasture, I find what the sheep and horses know is there.

Blades of green are between the brown blades, beneath the melting snow.

The brightest color, though, is found in the yard.