Winter Blog

Large white faced Herdford cattle dotted the winter landscape along the hillside; their thick, curly, red coats made them easy to see on the newly fallen white snow.  They pawed at the snow and slowly stomped their way across the hillside.  The wind scattered snow about in a light swirl as the cattle shook their heads at the cold and raised their faces to the sun.  The wind whipped around the small heard again as they moved together for warmth.  The horses plowed through the drift towards the cattle, then turned towards the barns down the hill, moving into the barn for shelter, their plaid blankets would not be warm enough for what was coming.  The cattle, lowing, followed the horses, lumbering through the snow.  A sudden gust of wind pushed snow into their faces, forcing them to close their eyes while the horses bucked and whinnied into the morning sun as they romped towards their barn.  A new snow storm was brewing and the animals wanted to be inside sooner than later.  But for right now, the sun was dancing off the barn’s tin roof and the sky was blue and inviting.   The sheep were already snuggled inside, safe and warm while a brave ram peered out of the doorway into the cold where his breath hung in the air.  The rest of the flock huddled in a room farthest from the doorway, putting a wall between the cold and where they rested. 

Icicles hung from the barn and house roof, trimming each building with holiday glitter; the cattle headed towards shelter stepping into the leader's foot prints.  The hawks, done circling, headed for their nests.  A squirrel chased his food rival across the frozen snow, eager to get the last morsel of food for himself before hunkering down for the storm, not that the squirrel really knew where that nut or acorn was, but if it was there, it would be his. 

Nowhere could I see a human.  Lights burned inside of the farmhouse and the mountains got ready for another blizzard.  I drove down Route 84 in the ruts the trucks had left for weary travelers and headed for home.   I had just traveled up from Long Island having been challenged by a coastal storm, up the Cross Island, over the icy bridges, after a wonderful Christmas Day visit with my niece and her fiancée.  I was eager to get home after 4 hours on the road; just one more leg to this journey.  The hills rolled in glistening white; their serene beauty had a calming effect as I drove through the wind and snow; it had been the best Christmas Day ever.