In the midst of chaos and turbulence came a wonderful gift with a headful of dark hair, our fourth grandson, Samuel Alan Hardie.
It’s easy to miss things with your nose to the grindstone. When you finally look around, you might be surprised by what you find, like this hornet’s nest.
I hated raking hay when I was a kid because it was so boring driving the tractor around the field. Now I love it for the same reasons.
There are some years when I’m already taking my second cutting of hay in early July. At this rate, I’ll be lucky to take two cuttings all year.
Dotted across our rural landscape are haunting vestiges of what once was. Each place has a story. And that’s why abandoned properties always draw my curiosity.
Nothing says summer nights more to me than the call of the whip-poor-will, which instantly takes me back to my childhood and listening to the bird as I drifted off to sleep.
Finally, when it seems like we may catch a break with some warm weather to tackle all those long-delayed outside projects, we are nailed by gnats.
Spring is the season of birth on the farm and in nature. Our farm is home to many deer; late May or early June is when does give birth.
Phenology, the study of the timing of biological events in plants and animals in relation to change in season and climate, is a familiar concept for most farmers.
Most things with our minds and bodies decline as we get older, but stubbornness can actually increase with age. At least, it does in my case.