Archive for March, 2011
The Bradford Pear is in full bloom today. All week, I’ve watched this tree mull over its options. We’ve had cool days and freezing nights, enough to induce a spring bloomer to reconsider its position. In spite of this, every day this heedless tree was a little more brazen and showing a little more bling than the day before. Yesterday, it simply threw caution to the wind and blossomed entirely. I enjoy the Bradford Pear, but I find it a little unrestrained.
I am partial to the Deciduous Magnolia, from its compelling pussy-willow like buds to its stately rose and pink blossoms. It typically demonstrates more prudence than the Bradford Pear. I like that, being in want of a little more prudence myself. I noticed a few timid buds opening this week, but the effect was more bashful-child-peering-through-the-fence-at-the-party than Baby-I’ve-got-something-outrageous-to-show-you. But with things in the neighborhood heating up the way they are, the Deciduous Magnolia decided to join in.
Our young Keifer pear trees are showing some adolescent derring-do, but I am hoping that they reconsider. After all, if we get a freeze hard enough to shut down the whole blooming party, the Keifer’s will lose more than just their blossoms, they will lose their fruit.
March 13th, 2011
As close as she is to delivering her kids, Mae Mae has still made a point of steering herself into the milk room at every milking, even though she has no need yet to be milked. It is a surprise to me — she has not made the milking room her habit this late in her pregnancies, but whatever her reasons for doing so now, it is a pleasure to see her maneuver her great bulk with such spring and spirit into her place on the milk stand.
The great size of her takes up a lot of space and so I have been leaning back against her as I milk her grandaughter Tweedle. Mae Mae doesn’t seem to mind, intent as she is on her eating, and it is a comfort to lean up against so capable a mother as she. It’s cozy and milking can be so dreamy, especially first thing in the morning early in the spring; it’s cold, I’m sleepy, the day’s not yet begun, the season’s barely begun, but for just this moment, things are going just as I wish they would.
As the goats are peacefully eating, the rhythm of milking is my meditation and leaning against Mae Mae is my comfort. While leaning against her, I sometimes feel against my back a sharp tap, a swift kick, or a larger, more sinuous movement, and then, just as I turn my attention to savoring both the surprise and the pleasure of this, it’s gone and I’m left with the feeling that I am at the edge of a dream and something magical I’ve barely seen has vanished before I’m sure that I’ve seen anything at all.
Any day now….
March 8th, 2011
She quietly counts heartbeats.
Spring will be here soon.
March 6th, 2011
I have been ruminating over the idea that within the barn is an ever-evolving landscape but then I decided that I did not really know what a landscape was. After visiting the Encyclopedia Britannica, I now know that a landscape endures “progressive changes in topography” towards an “altered form.” “The changes can only occur in response to energy available to do work within the geomporphic system in question…*.”
Sounds about right.
March 2nd, 2011
Coming in like a lion, our first spring storm brought us high winds, rain, thunder, and lightning, but it left us with crisp air, bright light and the other half of the proverb.
- Out Like a Lamb, March 1, 2011
March 1st, 2011