Spring has sprung

Well, it looks like the sun has set on another winter.

Suddenly the temps are well above freezing during the day, and the snow is melting rapidly. Bodies of water are losing their grip of ice.

Everywhere we go, we hear the chatter of running water.

Sometimes it's more than chatter. Across the canyon, I heard the distant thundering of an ephemeral creek.

Yesterday afternoon, I just missed taking a photo of our neighbors riding horses along the road. Both these fine people have faced frightening health challenges in the last year, and to see them enjoying the simple pleasure of a horseback ride on an early spring afternoon was a welcome sight indeed. I captured evidence of their horses' passing.

Suddenly we're dripping with birds: red-winged blackbirds, robins, kildeer, meadowlarks, and of course swans flying over us toward the lake.

Everything is white and brown, blue and green as the snow recedes.

With this increased pulse of life, of course, we now find ourselves looking for any excuse to get outside. Taking Mr. Darcy for walks is one of those excuses of which he highly approves.

We dehorned little Anna, who was understandably not amused by the duct-tape helmet. We kept both mama and baby in the barn during this time.

Later, when we could finally clip off the duct tape, Polly and Anna stepped back out into the welcoming sunshine.

Meanwhile the rest of the cows and calves lounged in the warmth.

I decided to investigate the garden, much of which is still under snow. Here's the blueberry bed:

Some of the strawberry tires, with the garlic boat in the background:

I walked into the orchard and was distressed to see our young Gala apple tree on its side.

It must have just happened -- new buds were still looking healthy -- and probably occurred during a windy blast a couple of days before.

At least its roots were still (mostly) in the soil. I straightened the tree and re-staked it from four directions. I don't know if it will survive, so we'll see.

The rest of the orchard looked to be in roaring good health, so that's a relief.

I'm getting the itch to plant something, but it's too early even to start seeds in the house (since we couldn't transplant until late May or early June), so I'll try to be patient. But with spring in the air, it's hard going.

The benefits of a prepared lifestyle

Here's my latest blog post at Lehman's entitled "The benefits of a prepared lifestyle."

Please hop over and leave a comment on their website!

Apologies for the silence

It's been one of those weeks where we were just very, very busy -- house guests, potluck, deadlines, taxes, interviews ... everything added up and the blog got neglected. Sorry!

A winter's worth of weather in two weeks

Up until mid-February or so, we had a very mild winter. Temps were often chilly, but the ground was bare.

Here's the orchard on January 25, for example:

Our hazelnuts had catkins on them...

...and all our young fruit trees had winter buds.

Mr. Darcy could carry branches along the road bare of snow.

Just before Valentine's Day, the pattern continued: cold and sunny and dry.

The morning sun shone through golden ice crystals.

And still the weather stayed dry.

And then the great Celestial Weather Machine did a total 180 degrees, and winter came.

It started on February 14 with a powerful snow squall that dumped several inches of snow. We actually had thunder and lightning during the snowstorm -- that was something to see!

(That's Mr. Darcy lying down in the road.)

Then the skies cleared and the temperature dropped like a rock. We had three days of -6F temps.

In anticipation of the cold temps, I cleaned out the chicken coop to make sure the birds all had soft, fluffy straw for warmth.

I think the ladies appreciated it.

I was worried a calf would be born during this cold snap, but thankfully all the cows held off.

That calves that were born before the cold snap -- Hickory and Ferdinand -- did fine. It was a funny thing to see such tiny calves cavorting in the bitter cold and snow.

The bellies full of warm milk helped.

During the cold snap, all the animals activated their solar panels and stood broadside to the sun.

Then the temps rose and the ripping snow came roaring back in.

And then came the dreaded weather prediction of wind -- supposedly gusts up to 60 mph. When we lose power, we lose water. Having been through the November 2015 windstorm that devastated our region, we took no chances. We filled oil lamps, put fresh batteries in all the flashlights, and topped off household water.

We filled a second livestock tank as well. We knew it would freeze, but not solidly, and we could knock the ice out.

We both took showers, and I caught up on laundry.

Thankfully the power stayed on during that windy day, but that doesn't mean we didn't have other windy days -- which, coupled with snow, meant drifts.

Don tackled the drifts in our driveway, and heroic neighbors with plow blades tackled the road.

We did get some superb alpineglow one evening...

...before once again snow roared in.

It pasted every surface...

...and dusted the inside of the barn, leaving a perfect silhouette of a pitch fork.

The chickens mostly stayed in their coop, otherwise they sank.

When Don plowed a clearing, all the cows and calves hung around in the cleared space.

When we took Mr. Darcy out for a run, he got "jingle balls" of snow adhering to his fur.

And then -- quite abruptly -- the spate of bad weather eased and blue skies and warmer temperatures moved in.

The snow will take quite a while to melt -- take a gander at the garden, where all the tires are still buried -- but we'll take what we can get.

Even the road in to our place is becoming more slush than ice.

We've been getting flocks of hoary redpolls all over...

...and the occasional tiny spider on the snow.

So I'd like to think this portends early spring, but I don't want to jinx it by saying so.

We'll just have to wait and see.