Monday, February 04, 2013
Monday Morning Light
Loved my walk down the road this morning, and I'm betting that's gonna turn into a trend over the next several days.
When I can walk out the driveway at the usual time after chores and see something other than headlights in the darkness, I know we're making progress.
February morning light is shining brighter every morning.
I not only feel safer, but the walk seems to go by much faster while admiring all the sights now visible, thanks to the light.
This morning I noticed that the big indoor arena up the road has lost about two thirds of its heavy covering of snow.
I could also see tracks in Meserve's field to the north where "Mr. Moose," as Geneva calls the critter, made a recent trip.
Mr. Moose has been hanging around the area this past week or so, but still no morning sightings, and for that I'm glad.
With the Super Bowl over and snow diminishing, we can finally steer our minds to a few spring-related projects.
Yesterday I planted my geraniums, almost 60 of them.
Now, the garden window behind the kitchen sink has turned into its late-winter cluttered mess as at least a dozen vitamin/medicine containers had to be pushed aside to make room for three trays of seeded pots.
I learned from my maiden planting of geranium seed last year that these little guys take about two weeks to start popping upward from their soil.
Once they do, they're pretty darned hardy, and that's nice cuz purchasing young geraniums from greenhouses is pretty spendy.
If all goes right, the Lovestead will be ablaze with their abundant red blossoms come July.
This is also a good time to get my little greenhouse organized for this year's crop of potted veggies and flowers.
In addition, the mild weather may also provide some opportunities to do a little pruning on our big apple tree. Maybe I can prune adequately enough for us to have some decent-sized apples this year.
I love the first week of February because I can remember past years at our old farm on Great Northern Road actually seeing some red-winged blackbirds flitting about in the woods and wetlands across from our driveway.
Seemed that those sightings gave license to our strong desire to breathe in a little touch of spring.
On the downside, this time of year also can signal the start of something we hate: mud season.
I saw Tom Albertson, a Gold Creek farmer/educator, at the basketball game the other night.
"Ya know we really never got a good freeze," he lamented. Others standing in our circle kinda poopoohed Tom's comment, saying they'd been cold enough this winter.
But I understood Tom's concern. A good freeze often means less time spend slogging around in the mud.
And, anyone on a farm will agree that less time spent slogging around in the mud makes for happy farmers.
I don't know what we've got in store for us with mud season this year, but the faster it comes and goes, the better.
For now, the ground is still fairly firm, so we'll enjoy it and take advantage of our opportunities to enjoy those early, early spring projects.