Slowly emerging from a gray, rainy, sunny, cold, warm winter, our old farm is showing us how to “pick yourself up … dust yourself off … and start all over again.” We were around 2,500 miles away when this winter’s big frost hit and as I take my daily two-mile walk, I look to see what we have lost, and what has come back.
Our Christmas roses are defying the freeze, giving their winter promise of spring via their cream and rose flowers, but one of our old, white pines recently let go of its roots and laid down for its final rest.
All the rain has put the creek on a rampage, coming so far out of its banks that a nearby railroad tie has been washed into the water. Our old bridge will hold humans, but not Dan’s wide and heavy Bobcat. Several railroad ties are currently near the creek as Dan plans to build a heavy equipment bridge soon.
As I walk, I look at several trees, trying to assess which will go down soon and which will stand strong. Farm life involves a myriad of chores. Trees go down and must be cut and cleared, the woodshed roof leaks and must be patched, the equipment falters and must be repaired. Some days one shrugs helplessly, but other days one feels the ever-lurking joy of the outdoors.
Our old white pine, at rest in the field
Dan refilled the bird feeder the other day. Immediately a cranky male cardinal took possession, pecking away any other birds who dared to share his perch. After a few minutes, a small goldfinch landed. Before the cardinal could attack, the little bird channeled Muhammad Ail, “dancing like a butterfly and stinging like a bee.” Deflecting pecks by fluttering relentlessly in his opponent’s face, the goldfinch ran the cardinal off the perch. Persistence in the face of resistance.
Our sons live in the San Francisco Bay area, a location that generally has the same weather day after day. When we visit, I exclaim over blooming flowers in winter, the bright sky, the soft breeze. They tell me that when you live in the same environment year-round, you take the weather for granted.
Undoubtedly, this fellow will come down soon. Another farm project.
Tennessee will never let one take the weather for granted. We always read the weather report in an attempt to remain aware and prepared. Today my normal 2-mile walk was made more precious by the report of in-coming gale force winds and thunderstorms.
As I walked, I snatched at the pure, cold air and dodged mud puddles, knowing soon it would all change.
We complain about the weather – it’s gloomy, it’s cold, it’s hot, Good Lord it’s snowing, but there is grace in the unexpected. We appreciate the sun, we marvel at the blue sky, we feel alive. We live in Tennessee.
Cindy Arp, teacher/librarian, retired from Knox County Schools. She and husband Dan live in Heiskell.
