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Thursday, September 21, 2017 9:20 AM
It is that time of year when the creek valley dresses itself with bright yellow, my mother’s favorite color. As the nights turn colder, I smile and hold her a bit closer to my heart, seeing her bright joy in the creek valley all around me.
  • Thursday, September 21, 2017 9:20 AM
    It is that time of year when the creek valley dresses itself with bright yellow, my mother’s favorite color. As the nights turn colder, I smile and hold her a bit closer to my heart, seeing her bright joy in the creek valley all around me.
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  • Friday, September 15, 2017 8:59 AM
    Feeling foolish and a bit blue, I promised to try not to scratch, but Greg really cheered me up when he volunteered to go down to the creek and fetch some jewell weed. We have learned that a poultice of the orange flowers works wonders as a cure for such ailments as the poison oak greenhouse blues.
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  • Thursday, September 7, 2017 10:43 AM
    Our homing pigeons seem so beautifully clean and pure. Even our oldest bird, who we have had for the past seven years, still looks as handsome and pristine as he did the day we brought him home, but for all of the birds’ beauty, they are masters at making a mess.
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  • Thursday, August 31, 2017 7:47 AM
    Yes, I have certainly come to recognize the rhythms of our life down here at the creek. I feel securely wrapped in their familiarity, and I could not think of a better way to live.
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  • Friday, August 25, 2017 6:20 AM
    So, yes, every morning after the spider evictions, as I head outside to do the animal chores, I walk across the side deck in search of morning dew on the now-familiar spider webs, knowing that the dew will signal the start of a perfectly cool late summer day. I am still looking.
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  • Friday, August 18, 2017 7:38 AM
    I heard that our city friends and family were placing bets as to how long I would last in the country. Fifteen years later, I imagine that all bets are off. Wild horses could not drag me back to the city.
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  • Friday, August 11, 2017 4:58 AM
    It was then that the call of a mourning dove began to float through the windows, carried on the still wet air. Smaller birds began to chirp and whistle, and Greg and I sat at the breakfast table, sipping our coffee. How wonderful to be surrounded by the sounds of a wet creek valley morning.
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  • Thursday, August 3, 2017 6:57 AM
    We have been raising homing pigeons for quite a few years now. They are pure white and look so beautiful when on a day like today they fly in their pigeon formation in a giant circle just above the creek valley ridge tops with a clear blue sky backdrop. As they pass by overhead, I can hear the clip of their wing beats. In time, they land on top of the windmill tower, and then, one by one, they glide down to the door at the front of their coop to safely gather inside.
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  • Friday, July 28, 2017 8:06 AM
    I must confess, sometimes toward the end of the day when we sit back on the front porch swing and the air is perfectly still, and it is too hot to move, that it occurs to us to climb into our air-conditioned vehicle and drive the extra-long way out to a very leisurely air-conditioned dinner.
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  • Friday, July 21, 2017 4:47 AM
    Without a doubt, it was a warm day. We puttered about the farm, doing a few small tasks that needed doing.
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