We hear warnings on the radio and NOAA confirms cold weather coming. Really cold for our region: nights in the teens, days in the 20s. This is not normal, and the forecast of snow is also surprising. We’ve had sprinklings in past winters, but here we’re looking for inches.
We know what to do—we’re from the Rocky Mountains. We go around the whole property. Every hose bib disconnected, every outdoor faucet left dripping. Dog water bowl plugged in. Heat lamps on their timers in the studio, hen house and pump house—the last thing we want is frozen water lines.
And, last night, it did snow—and oh, delight—it is still snowing today! The gentle white fall has continued for hours now. Deep silence fills our world as the fields shade from green to gray to pure white. Red rose hips and holly berries are suddenly showy, and the evergreens have that holiday topping of white, sparkly powder. We have just installed two lamps at our gates, and at dusk they light, casting a glow over the snow-topped gates and highlighting the just-mounted Christmas wreaths with their brilliant red bows.
The animals are mostly all right, the lambs staying in their shed chomping on hay, the hens closed up, and Finnegan making brief forays outside. I’m not sure if he has experienced snow before; he seemed quite puzzled by the whole situation at first. But now he’s making mad dashes through the mounting drifts like an oversized awkward pup.