It’s getting colder, there are only a few leaves left on the trees, they rattle against the bare branches and drift to the ground. There’s something different about the farm in the cold, something new, I feeling I haven’t had before.
I grew up in Florida, for those of you who don’t know. I’m at champion at 98 degree lows and 110% humidity. Hurricanes, no power for 5 days, fallen trees, sure. I can sweat with the best of them. But cold? People say they’d rather be cold because they can add more clothes, but that’s ridiculous. A Floridian can only take so much.
Thank the Lord for Goodwill, I got some tacky scarves and an epic pea coat that makes me feel like auditioning for the next spy movie. This morning wasn’t so bad, it was in the mid 30’s and I got dressed and had my coffee by the wood stove. I don’t know what I will do when there’s snow on the ground, or how I will drive my city car on ice but I’ll figure it out when it happens!
It’s a different feeling though, to be sure. It gets dark by 6, I miss the days where the sun is up before you are and doesn’t set until 9. The lightning bugs and the crickets, and that feeling when you step out the backdoor with dogs in tow to head out and find something amazing and messy to get into.
The cold is quieter, you almost don’t want to disturb the silence. The animals rest more, everything feels asleep. The sun rises to the south of the house as the earth tilts on its axis, it spends less time in the sky, less time warming the orange clay.
This week has been busy at work, we’ve gotten 2 of 3 magazines published, I’ll go in tomorrow to help with the last one, then I’m looking forward to a break. It’s been over two weeks since I’ve ridden Tug, a streak I’m looking forward to ending soon. The Aunt’s are coming here for Thanksgiving, I’m going to attempt to make a derby pie, for some reason the cooking/baking gene missed me completely. But Sadie’s a good teacher.
She just got home, the dogs and cats are lounging by the stove, she’s reading the paper and I’d like to crack open a book myself. I’m glad there is a season of rest at the farm, if the land is still and quiet, I can learn to be still and quiet too.