This morning I woke to the croak and ribbit of hundreds of frogs. We have a small pond near the back of our house. On one side of the pond, the grass is high and the ground is marshy, perfect for these amphibians.
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When you live on a farm, work changes with the seasons.
Winter is a time of rest, for the soil, animals, and people, but not for bees. They collect together and vibrate to keep the queen and brood warm, but all too often, they don’t survive the cold and damp of winter. Despite my efforts in the fall, my two colonies didn’t endure the harsh short days of winter.
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Every year we lose a few hens to illness, hawks, or raccoons and need replacements. In years past we had a rooster named Colonel and he took care of that for me. I slept right through Colonel’s predawn crowing, but it drove my wife to distraction. One day she told me that the rooster had disappeared. Yeah, sure, Colonel just decided to move. I think she had him killed.
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The deer spend less time in our backyard now.
Sometimes during the winter, when snow covered every bit of pasture, there would be five or six deer waiting near our backdoor in the morning. My wife would talk to them like friends as she tossed out apples for them to eat. That happens less often during the summer, but they still know that this is a safe and welcome place to come. They often spend the night in the forest just beyond our yard.
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The greening of the farm-inspired me.
As many of you know, I live on a small farm and spring is always a very special time. After a cold and wet (Pacific Northwest) winter, it is time to get outside and repair fences, gates, and the broken hen house door.
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