We’re at the beginning of a day-long storm. I’m quarantined but was permitted to rush out and capture the winter pasture, perhaps the most beautiful time of year in its way. I could not live where there was no change of seasons. Spring seems all the sweeter, but it is lovely here. I’ve got at least one day’s worth of work to share and news about the farm, and it is cozy to be inside with the wood stove warming us.

(Above, a finch looks at me every morning. I smiled and waved back.)

We aren’t going anywhere today. Yesterday, I took my car to the auto repair people —someone backed into it while I was in the Post Office—to have it repaired. They can work on it in March, but they are swamped whenever there is snow and ice. The car runs fine; the insurance company will pay for the repairs. I have a $500 deductible. I didn’t see who did it.

I thought the damage was minor, but there is no such thing as minor the way cars are now built. A small dent is $2,000. Life, as always, goes on.

I’m lucky. I live in a warm and dry place, and I live with someone who loves chores, art, and snow. I can’t go wrong.

However, it’s been cold and too slippery for me. I’ve fallen twice in two days, and the ice and snow are pretty bad. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I woke up in a wave of optimism and hope. Maybe the spirits are talking to me. I took some photos to share as always, Im like the Post Office used to be – rain or shine, I deliver.

St. Joseph is our saint of the weather. It’s beautiful, but we need to talk.

Zip, as usual, paid no mind to the snow and popped up on the porch for some love.

Ed Gulley’s Tin Man is ready for Spring. But he doesn’t seem to mind the snow.

Getting warm, bird style