Morning Glory

Some mornings are so beautiful I just stand and watch them unfold, all thoughts of chores and work abandoned.

Dogs at Play

I do so enjoy dogs.

Charlie comes in for breakfast and dinner. During truly awful, disgusting weather he will try to stay in all day, and if it is really, really bad all night. On normal days like the last few, he comes in to eat, lay down for a few minutes, and then is eager to be off outside again.

But he and Jesse like each other and love to play. It's the only time I realize how young Charlie is - not to say older dogs don't like to play, but in play Charlie actually seems his youthful age.
They are so fun to watch. Two fluffy white dogs, one 120 lbs, one 60 lbs. Jesse jumps up on Charlie's back, wraps his front legs as far as he can around the chest, and struggles to wrestle him to the floor. After a brief struggle Charlie rolls to the floor, all four legs in the air, huge smile on his face. They bury their teeth in each other's fur, surrounding legs, thighs, necks. Jesse will grasp Charlie in a hopeful neck hold.

Charlie escapes! He runs across the living room, turns, jumps forward over Jesse. Then they are at it again, wrestling each other to the floor. Actually, it is always Jesse who wrestles Charlie to the floor. LGDs are such wonderful playmates. Pyrs, at least, seem to enjoy the fight so much they will let their opponent win time after time to keep the game alive.

And then it is over. Jesse is soaked all down his front. Charlie dashes out the door, looking hopefully at the fence. Finding no predators lurking, he trots over to say high to the other dogs, already out in their day yard.

The sun is shining, the dogs are happy. Life is good.

Above the Clouds

Fall is fog time. Living on a ridge has some serious advantages this time of year, as I sit above the clouds looking down on a changing world. From here the clouds have presence and personality. Sometimes they sneak in around the hills to stealthily hide the lowest areas. At other times they boldly cover the valley, creating the illusion of fog on a lake. One morning it was as of a dry river was being flooded from rains in the hills.

The first waters cover the valley floor in the early morning.

As the sun rises, the clouds buffet the treetops and cover the lowlands.

The rush of water/clouds floods the valley, making waves in its haste.

And then they move on, as if called by the sea.

Harvest Moon

The weather has been perfect for viewing the spectacular harvest moon. It rises in the evening, huge and yellow, lights the earth all night, and still shines brightly in the morning. Usually we have skies full of clouds and rain this time of year; it is such a joy to have them full of moonlight.

When you don't have Henna...

try some red clay dampened by rain. Tor shows off his new 'do. Pyrs don't seem to notice water dropping from the sky; they ignore shelters and dig holes to curl up in. Berna, an Anatolian Shepard, prefers to maintain her pristine white and tan by hanging out under cover.

Morning Mist

The rains haven't settled in for good yet. The nights are cold, the mornings crisp and clear, and it's quite warm during the day. Clear mornings are so lovely, with ground mist in the valley and the mountains basking in the pink light. 

A Basket Full of Berna

Trying to wash sheets is always a challenge. Berna (at nearly 100 lbs) not only decided to nap in the dog bed that neatly fits my 40 lb border collie, she pulled some sheets in for padding. I still can't believe she fit in the bed. And wanted to. 

The End of Summer

I was 10 minutes from home when I drove onto wet pavement. The predicted rains had obviously started in east county. Soon the windshield was littered with mist, and then it began. Woosh! Rain pelted the car, bounced up from the road. A tropical downpour at 60 degrees in the temperate north. I could barely see the road. Then I turned into blackness on the narrow and deserted road that leads to the ridge. When I made the second turn onto the ridge road I was greeted with wisps of cloud. It was raining so hard the clouds had been forced to the ground and were bouncing along lightly, lit by my headlights, fleeing downhill. Visibility was, I must say, poor.

With relief I turned onto my narrow gravel drive and crunched up to my animal area. There I sat in the car, in my cotton sweater, slacks and sandals, trying to talk myself into leaving the warm dryness of the car for the large wetness of the outside. I was wet in seconds. I'd just made it to the safety of the building when I was nearly bowled over by a huge white dog headed in. Charlie looked at me accusingly, as if I should have been here when the rain started to let him in.

I did all the chores I could think of inside, and stood at the door with Charlie, watching the wall of water. "We'll wait a few minutes. Maybe it will slack off soon." It didn't. It got worse. The sky is trying to make up for a summer's worth of drought in a single night. Charlie couldn't believe I was forcing him back into that rain, but we had to get up to the house. By the time I got in I was soaked from head to toe, mostly from multiple wet dogs vying for the open door into summer.

Autumn has officially begun.

Tor at Work

Tor continues to gain confidence and trust. He pretty much believes I will feed him daily, not ever punish him, and perhaps will even protect him. With his improved self-confidence he is less aggressive to the other dogs. He's terribly afraid of gunshots; target practicing or fireworks setting in the neighborhood still provokes him into climbing the fence.

Here Tor is in his second stint in the sheep pastures. He lasted 2 weeks the first time, then had to climb out. I'm hoping he'll last longer this time before he appears at the front porch.

 

Growing Up Feathered

Mom peahen and her three growing chicks looking for bugs in the garden. These three fly quite well now. They also have their topknots, although you can't see them in this pic.

Resting on their favorite stump after a busy morning hunting down food. Dad and Sis are sunbathing nearby.

Anybody Home?

I often get the feeling I'm being watched, and look up to see a peafowl looking in. This hen is last year's chick. She spends much of her time helping care for her mother's latest clutch.

Hawk Attack!

This story is about the free red rooster I mentioned in a previous post. The one some kindly neighbor dropped off while I was gone. **

Red Tail hawks are really very large.

I heard a chicken screaming out front and opened the door in time to see a red tailed hawk in the road, getting ready to make a meal out of my red rooster. The hawk was huge, and looked magnificant as he tried to subdue his prey.

This rooster had appeared one day, guarding the carport from me when I got home from work. He and I came to an understanding - he wouldn't attack me as long as I didn't turn my back on him. He was a feisty guy and attacked nearly everyone else. I could understand why someone didn't want him, I'm not so sure about why they thought he belonged with me. He was good at watching after the hens, so of course he stayed.

The hawk gave me a glare and reluctantly flew off when I came out, and the rooster disappered. The dogs went nuts, running into the bamboo. The duck was quacking loudly by the road. My red hen came flailing out of the bamboo, practically into my arms. I put her outside the fence, but the dogs were still intensely hunting in the bamboo. Then I heard a chicken moan. Following the sound, I found my red rooster lying in a thicket, looking mostly dead. I burrowed in and was about to grab him when Hannah the border collie darted in, snatched him up by the neck and took off, feathers flying everywhere. I caught her and retrieved the rooster, who was a bit shocky but surprisingly unhurt, considering he'd just been nabbed by a hawk and then a dog.

My very nasty red rooster ended up wrapped in a blanket in my bathroom, the only warm and dog-free zone. The rest of my feathered crew spent the day hiding under plants. It didn't take long for the rooster to regain his dignity, and go back to strutting up and down by the road. He and the duck and the red hen (the duck's best friend) liked to hang out where the water ran down off the road. My delightful duck was the only one of my critters who was totally and completely thrilled that it was winter.

From that day the rooster gave me more warning signs and attacked less frequently; his concession, I suppose, for having his life saved.

Berna and Tor

Berna and Tor are trying to figure out what I'm taking pictures of - they haven't noticed the rainbow behind them.

Berna, my beautiful Anatolian, decided to pose for once. I think she's been reading about show dogs. Tor, finally up to a normal healthy weight, watches happily.

Summer Sunset

I was working at the computer when I noticed the unusual quality of the light. Stepping outside, Charlie and I saw a beautiful double rainbow, and the mist remaining from the day's rain brightly lit. As the sun set the rainbows got brighter, and the highlighted area increased. The rainbows went nearly straight up into the clouds.

Then I turned and looked east. There was the other end of the rainbow - of both rainbows - also rising into the clouds.

A beautiful end to a rainy summer's day.

Local Night Life

  

The Red Hen

At my former farm, the house faced a fairly busy road. My chickens roosted on a trellis at the end of the carport, in full view of the road. One day a pickup stopped, disgorging a man and his young daughter. "Would you be willing to take a couple more chickens?" he said.

I've had past experience of people giving me chickens, usually without my consent. The meanest rooster I've had appeared one day and took over the farm, attacking any person foolish enough to set foot on it. I'm now a bit wary of free fowl.

The little girl hugged her dad's leg and looked sad. "Our landlord insists we get rid of the birds. They’re my daughter’s pets." So I took possession of 2 red hens and a duck. A duck that thought she was a hen, and was totally devoted to the larger, darker hen.

The light hen drowned herself in the creek the first week; not used to so much water, I suppose, or perhaps trying to follow the duck. The dark hen and the duck lived happily with me for years, the hen roosting on the trellis, the duck sleeping in a crate below it.

The coyotes eventually made a snack of the duck, but the hen moved with me to the new farm, where she happily combs the woods and fields for bugs. And then one day she lost all judgment.

I have two livestock guardian dogs who live in a large dog yard, instead of out with the livestock. Tor, the Pyr, is there because he is a rescue dog who would try to kill my working Pyr if he was loose. Berna the Anatolian spends her days there instead of patrolling the farm because she was raised by a Border Collie, and loves to chase birds. She isn't nearly as intense or determined as the Border Collie, but she is a quick and thorough learner, and chase is what Border Collies do best.

When I came home from work Tor was at the corner of the pen to greet me as usual. Berna was not. Odd behavior. As I went in the gate I leaned over to see around the shelter, to see why Berna wasn't greeting me. Berna had cornered and was "playing" with my red hen.

For some unknown reason, the hen had decided to go into the dog yard. There is no grass in there, and not much in the line of living plants. Just two big dogs. I've no idea how long the hen was in the dog yard. The poor hen was missing a fair amount of feathers, and quite a bit of skin where the wing connects to the body. I consider the limited injuries as a good sign that Berna may one day be trained to ignore the birds; she could so easily have killed the hen.

The red hen spent a month living inside getting medical care, and one day decided she was well enough to go back out. She can fly up into the trees to roost and looks just as good as new. Maybe I should get her another duck.

 

Rushing Light

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My favorite grain silos. The fate of the small farm...

Writer's Weekend

I dropped in at a writer's conference near Seattle this weekend, to spend some time with tale spinners and the people who help get those tales pubished. It was fascinating to hear how the publishing process works, and why it takes so long to hear back when you submit a manuscript. It was very inspiring being around so many writers, listening to success stories, and learning more about the business of writing.

Check out http://fiberinparadise.blogspot.com/ for a report from my friend who attended the full conference. While there be sure to read the rest of her blog, and you'll understand why she's had an agent and an editor request her manuscript.

It was a lovely weekend to be in the Puget Sound area. The Northwest has taken summer by the horns. It's been in the 80s and 90s, which is unusual for June. Actually, it doesn't usually stop raining until after July 4th. This spring has been wonderful. It's so beautiful here in spring and summer - the mountains gleem, the water glistens, and the lush green foliage looks positively tropical. Tonight a swift breeze is helping keep this web-footed northwesterner from melting. It was fun to spend some time in the city, but I'm glad to be back in my rural abode.

Elusive Peachicks

My peafowl flock is growing! The brown cluster by the peahen in the background is her clutch of 3 chicks. The hen in the foreground is last years' chick. While they are generally friendly Mom is very wary, and as soon as I get the camera out she ushers her chicks away. The family, including the peacock, are usually found together. Not, alas, for pictures.