Black and White. But not by design. For days now we have been under this heavy lid of pale gray cloud. Under the threat of snow. Below freezing. A frozen solid white bread sandwich. Colour has fled our world.
A strange bloody story.
Don’t eat yellow snow. Just sayin’.
The farmy has a sunny day ahead. Plus a high that may just tip us above freezing. My arms ache from carrying buckets of water for the cows so I hope we can get the hoses out today. Carrying water is hard work.
PINK is such a hard sounding word for such a soft light. Pink is clipped and final in its execution. Dusky is a better word. Though dusky has more gray in it.
When snow first falls it is pretty. Then when you are out in it it is pretty cold but soon it is just as used and worn out and unpretty as the rest of us. Though not without a certain formidable charm.
In the night it snowed and blowed but that is not the worst of it.
We worked in the grim cold and blowing though inconsequential snow all day then at the moment the sun committed to dropping below the horizon, to begin her journey to visit my children, she turned her fleeting lights on me. Suddenly and very briefly, sepia…
Back at the Farm.
Did I tell you that our insurance company has taken the barn off their list and will not insure it anymore? Is it insure or ensure? I must look that up.