Baby it's cold outside

Last night was the first snow of the season (the first real snow anyway). Boy, was it a doozy.

Many parts of the state got hit with 6-12 inches of heavy wet snow. Even more in the mountains. At the farmhouse yesterday evening the snow was well on the ground before it started near our house in town, just 12 miles south. Trees are down everywhere and branches are littering  the streets, roofs and folks yards. J went up to the farmhouse this evening to make sure everything was ok. The large farm south of us has no power. About 12,000 in Northern Colorado are out of power since last night.

It's days like this I want to be in the farmhouse with a woodstove, a hot cup of tea and a book. I am in the middle of three books right now. Four Kitchens, My Life Behind the Burner in New York, Hanoi, Tel Aviv and Paris; The Backyard Orchardist; and The Basics of Permaculture Design. The permaculture book is blowing my mind. There is so much to consider when looking at your property and developing all these micro-ecosystems in order to create a sustainable healthy growing system. Again, totally wishing I studied Ag in college.

The farmhouse is located in a very windy area. The closer you get to Wyoming, the more consistent the wind is. I believe it takes a certain measure of character to live in various parts of Wyoming. I personally do not have it. With that said, the farm is not in as bad a place as our northern neighbors, but a strong windbreak is in our future nonetheless. Picking trees is the big challenge. I would love some hearty maples or majestic oaks, but this is not New England. And here, something fast growing would be preferable. We will need three staggered rows of trees. Evergreens, taller deciduous and smaller bushes.

The windbreak will also keep the orchard trees and berry bushes from getting the tar beat out of them by the wind. I look forward to having my own little forest again. One thing I miss is the rich earthy smell of a deep forest. It is rare and disarming when I catch that smell here in Colorado. The red dirt here just doesn't have that organic scent. It holds more of a thin dusty note. But here the grass sings in the wind and the sound of the corn rustling is amazing. It is reminiscent of the ocean tide. When you walk our field at night, that sound is everywhere, subtle and constant.

I was discussing the orchard plans with someone today and told her that I think in some ways it is my attempt to create a little piece of back home here, where trees don't hold the same presence. I miss the canopy of them and can't wait to lie beneath the apple blossoms in spring watching the bees get busy.

I've spent so much time day dreaming about creating the perfect farmstead, I find myself impatient to get started. I am a little sad that winter has come so soon. All planting will have to wait until spring. Until then, I guess I am left with dreaming of dirt under my nails.