Dewy

Early Sunday morning. No sounds from the road, just the clucking of the hens and the quacking of the ducks. The air is cool and heavy with moisture -- dew covers everything.


Here at Busy Solitude Farm we are in the Galien River Watershed. Our water table is quite high; four years ago when we moved here we had to install a septic mound system because a septic field would have been too close to the water table. No matter, I planted it with a small, low-grass prairie and now it features prominently in the landscape! All of this water means we frequently have foggy mornings.


My NeBoShone pine. That's not a Latin name, don't look it up! I call it that because my friends at the NeBoShone Association up north gave it to me for Christmas one year. I had it in a huge pot for about four or five years before I finally landed here and put it in the ground. Over the past few years it's grown well, happy in its permanent home.


The vegetable garden slowly fades as the days grow short. I'll eat cabbage for a while yet, and the tomatoes still on the vine will ripen, but nothing new emerges this late. It's time to plant the garlic, put the beds to bed, and make plans for next season.


Lots of cosmos and zinnias still bloom in the cut flower bed. They linger until a frost and I'll enjoy their colors a while longer.


And I'll enjoy their colors a while longer, too! The dew holds scents close to the ground, fascinating those big dog noses. Oskar and Ulani can show me exactly where a bunny ran, or which direction the deer came from. But look out for those big hairy feet coming inside after a run through wet grass!