Farm

  • Grassing

    I like grass.  Whether in the pasture or the hay field, grass does not try to be more than their natural self.  Walk a field and I feel their rootedness and love of sun.  Whether ryegrass, wheatgrass, orchard grass, or tall fescue, I… Continue reading

    Grassing

  • Posted

    While walking the drive,A young eagle perched, upon a wood fence post.We neared, they flapped, only to land on the next post.Again and once again, post to post,Until the fenceline ended. Continue reading

    Posted

  • The Unveiling

    Pasture grass glistened from last night’s rain.  As she circled, her amnionic sac protruded, then vanished.  She laid back down.  Head up, she chewed cud and rested.  Overhead clouds broke.  Angled light shafts scattered across the valley. Standing again she walked a few feet, looked… Continue reading

    The Unveiling

  • Apricot Leaf: Birth and Resurrection

    Last night’s wind fell the last of the apricot leaves.  Their fall ends a remarkable season.  From spring birth to grounded resting they served us simple beauty, remarkable shade on a hundred-degree summer day, and protected their natural treed sibling: the apricot.… Continue reading

    Apricot Leaf: Birth and Resurrection