We’ve been slowly expanding this blog site so you will find a few more pages in addition to the main page with the historical blog of the farm & music newsletters here.
News from the farm:
This morning’s sky is cloaked in November mackerel grey, and it is 42 degrees by the porch thermometer’s reckoning. A New Englander by birth, the feelings evoked by such clouds at this time of year are of impending snow, although out here in our corner of Western Oregon, winters are normally quite mild, and more rain than snow-filled. The golden-brown hills of summer turn to lush autumn green with the rains, and the lawn needs mowing again. Lichens swell with renewed life. From a distance, lichen-encrusted trees that have already shed their leaves appear to be sporting a greenish-grey coat of early spring leaf buds, a strange juxtaposition of faux-spring color to the vivid autumn yellows of ones that have not yet let go. At sunset last night, the rain ceased and clouds parted long enough for the last rays of sunlight to paint the hills to the east before retiring into the west, retreating to faraway lands beyond my sight. The growing crescent moon soon took over, and stars began to populate the deepening Maxfield Parrish colors of twilight. Evening mists eventually softened moon’s glow, and the morning presented an overcast day in the making.
Although clouds at night restrict moon-viewing and star-gazing, they help keep the temperatures above freezing, buying me a little time for some garden projects. Kale and mustard have revived under cooler temperatures, providing some fresh greens for dinner. We put in a patch of tall sunflowers outside my office window this year. These giants have bent their massive heads under the weight of ripening seeds, and the small birds – finches of various kinds, juncos and chickadees – light on the heads to feed, providing close viewing for humans and cats from the inside of the window. Several frosts have darkened and shriveled most of the sunflower leaves, but some life remains, and small blooms are still sprouting from the dying stems. The hummingbirds are still about in the raspberry patch, their high-pitched chirp-clicks calling my attention to their activities.
The last pink rose bloom was captured on camera this morning, festooned with strands of spider silk made visible by beads of dew. Life continues to amaze me in all its beauty and tenacity.
Music news (schedule below):
The schedule is now also posted on the salmonbrookfarms.wordpress.com blog site. If you are traveling long distance, please call ahead. Things can and do sometimes change last minute.
In your area, wherever you may be, please do all you can to help keep local music alive. Go out and see someone you don’t know, host a house concert, download songs or buy CDs. Or even just stop for a minute to hear someone at a Farmers’ Market. Live, local musicians provide a wealth of talent most people will never hear about in this age of iPods, Internet and TV.