every day is a good day
Snowgeese camouflage as clouds. Maybe that is one reason they gather in such huge flocks. On the ground they look like snow. When they take to the air, they look like a fog bank or clouds nestled against the mountains.
Among the golden ferns, the Buff Orpingtons are nearly invisible. Are they the color of golden ferns, or are the ferns the color of Buff Orpingtons?
What are the Silver-Laced Wyandottes camouflaged as? Winged Zebras?
In mid-July a day isn’t a sunny one unless the sky is crystal clear at dawn and no clouds mar the cobalt sky all day. By mid-November, our standards for a sunny day have crumbled, and if we can spot any blue among the clouds, a sunny day it is. If we can step outside and not get wet walking to the gate, a sunny day it is. If we can bicycle to the post office and back without having to crawl into rain gear, a sunny day it is.
It’s a sunny day if rays of sunshine light up swan wings as they fly overhead. It’s a sunny day if the snowberries aren’t dripping raindrops.
For the ducks, rain or sun, it makes no difference. Any day that ends with a splashy swim is a sunny day.
Morning starts with a heavy frost, turning leaves to leather and wood to fine art.
Watching coffee roasting is a pleasing activity. Having a nearby friendly coffee roaster you can enjoy a pleasant conversation with while you pick up your coffee beans is precious. So is feeling how soft a bucket of warm chaff from roasted coffee is. Evidently it makes great mulch and bedding for worm bins, earthworms love it.
So is enjoying the sun setting over the San Juan Islands on the drive home. And so is coming home to find a tiny egg, the first egg from a young hen. Based on its size and color, it is a Turken egg. The mystery to solve is which of the six month old hens has started laying eggs.
Snow belongs up there, not down here. Saturday’s snow is but a memory. The sun has seen to that. The snow has retreated up into the hills and mountains where it belongs.
Mt. Baker can have as much snow as it wants.
And so can Lyman Hill. From now until spring, it’s a fine line where the snow ends, is it up there or down here?
Waking up this morning came with a big surprise, snow. This is the earliest snowfall since we moved here twelve years ago. It snowed steadily all morning, before stopping, and melting away.
The chickens don’t let a little snow slow them down. It takes a blizzard to keep chickens from venturing outside.
