Autumn Sunrise From the Back Porch

Autumn Sunrise From the Back Porch

View From The Back Door

I step onto the cool porch and retrieve two eggs from a basket. It seems two of the girls have decided to make it their nest. One a deep brown the other light blue. What real wealth looks like.

Eggs In A Basket

Tossing in salt, a few herbs a crushed garlic clove and a quick whisking preps the omelette. After fourty five cranks on the grinder handle the coffee is started. Sliding the eggs into the pan Barbara gave me as a Christmas gift and in seconds the omelette is plated and ready.

I quickly wash the the pan and mixing bowl to keep up with things. My grandma Edna always stressed cleaning as you go. A bit of advice I rarely live up to.  My grandma was just full of good advice.

Juggling my plate and coffee I move out to the west side of the porch and the rattan chair that Barbara salvaged and painted purple. The light is building and the air is cool and soft. I hear the tap of Dixie's paws behind me. She brushes past and trots off for the dawn patrol.

 I realize that it would be best to let the Dixie Chicks out before I eat. I step into the wet grass and head towards the coop. The dew soaks into my socks through the holes in my worn out willies. It is chilly but feels nice.

 

Working The Coop Latch 

The Expression On A Chicken's Face When They Think "I am Out Of Here"

Dixie Checking To See That Her Hens Are All O.K.

The chicks are almost as excited as Dixie about getting out of the coop. One of the things I enjoy most about sharing the farm with chickens is the "chickenisms"  like "being cooped up", "hen party" and "playing chicken". What was once common knowledge is now almost lost to the past.

My now cool omelette is very satisfying. I would like a piece of toast but my weight is up today so I need to go a little lean for the day. Breakfast finished, I settle back in the chair cinch up my wool jacket and sip my coffee.

The light changes minute by minute. The rising bird song settles into a steady tune. I hear the goats start to bump round and see Daphne stroll into the yard. She jumps up onto the old tin bin we put in the yard as a goat toy. She looks ready to be put out. The older goats not so much.

A few more minutes to sort out my plan for the day as I drain my cup and it is off to put the goats out and get things rolling.

Living out here is full of sacrifices. It makes it all the more important to really experience and enjoy these sweet moments. I remind myself that it is these small things that I miss when I wake in the city to the drone of the tyrannical automobile instead of bird song.

I feel a great day in the offing.

The Farmers’ Market Summer Equinox Blues

The Farmers’ Market Summer Equinox Blues

What is this you ask? This little known experience is common to all market growers. I am not sure what the syndrome is called. I am sure it is the end of summer, common experience for grower friends.

It is made evident by the strained tone coming from the stalls of married growers as they negotiate the Framers’ Market set up. Normally generous and kind spouses get short. They remind me of friends with their second child and are sleep deprived.

 

Eddie and Linda Negotiate Set Up

Our movements are stiffer and we are slower moving than the spring market. With the exception of pumpkins and fall ornamentals there are few new crops to show.

We can see the end of market season from here but it is still quite a ways off. You find yourself skimping on the yoga. You up the analgesics and while trying to judge if you need to add another bottle to your “things to buy in town list”. I find myself lingering over my morning coffee break.

The thing that gets me over it is light. The shadows lengthen and the sun drops toward the south the quality of the light begins to change. The softening of the evening and morning is accompanied with cooler air.

I find a nice place to sit with Dixie in the fading light of the day. We settle still and quiet. The sounds of the woods and fields slowly build around us. We are swallowed in a crescendo of night sound.

Dixie Listening 

Insects sing their last burst of summer energy. The bird sounds move away from mating songs. The goats clunk around in the shed as they settle down. The occasional burr oak acorn or black walnut slaps to the ground.

Dixie and I ride this out till we can see little on the ground and the stars sweep across the sky. I notice that I have not been bitten by a mosquito all evening and the air is absolutely comfortable. So much so that my clothing is superfluous.

Fall Blackbird Move House

I rise and tap my leg to call Dixie to me. As I turn to the house my back is still stiff but now I can feel the end of the market and a break in the routine is close.

Charcoal Making of An Evening

Charcoal Making Of An Evening

 

Firing The Charcoal Kiln

After a struggle to remain motivated post Saturday Farmers'Market I push out to work on finishing the siding on the garage. It progresses well and I feel encouraged. I step back and have a nice look at my progress.

I noticed the time and head into the house and try to FaceTime Barbara. It is near midnight there and she is in bed. I am so happy that she had a better day. She looks tired and happy. We have a nice chat and call it an evening. I turn off the IPad feeling like George Jetson. We live in interesting times.

It is the last day of summer and the light is becoming soft. I decide to lay aside the siding till tomorrow. I filled the charcoal kiln yesterday so I decide to sit out in the evening and fire it off.

The hot work is eased by a slight breeze across my face. After an hour or so the kiln is up to temperature. I retrieve a hard cider from the cooler and find a seat to watch the fire burn as the light fails. Dixie finds a cool spot to my left and settles in to enjoy the fading light.

This looks like the week for cider making and after my success last season I am looking forward to it. It seems so strange to be enjoying the sunshine that fell on an apple tree last summer in a cold bottle.

The fire is dying down so I stop the vent and head in for a well deserved rest. The end of a very well spent day. I cannot think of a better way to end the last day of summer.