Summer Inspiration From Our Farm in the Shenandoah Valley

Summer days on the farm sail by like clouds in the blue. Each morning brings a fresh look to our familiar  scenery. The sights that greet us have comforting continuity and yet are ever-changing.  No two days in the country are identical.

Breaking dawn and soon after is the best time of day. Nightly slumber renews the garden, beading every leaf and blossom with dew. Cows amble in the sparkling meadow, and the pond swims with waterfowl... It's the garden of Eden time.

(Lilies with the barn in back.)

Pastoral beauty and flowery nooks beckon and I get out my camera phone. Suspicious geese flee the crazy lady unless I sneak up on them. Fussy bunch. Summer sounds create a symphony while I dart around picture-taking. Birds sing, roosters crow, cows bawl, geese fuss... The cooing of mourning doves is a continual background note, and we have an insane mockingbird who runs through every tune he knows. Repeatedly. The trill of meadowlarks is heavenly. Finches and robins have the happiest song. Red-winged blackbirds sound their classic wetland call at the pond. Ducks converse amiably, unlike the squawky geese.. There is much life here.

I love the music of the garden. Bees hum, crickets chirp, fairies sing...

(Phlox and more phlox)

(Zinnias and cosmos from seed I saved and sowed in May, also pictured below)

(Wild Bee balm and coreopsis tinctoria)

Hazy, hot, and humid stretches of summer do not inspire me. Pics are dulled when the air hangs like a warm wet blanket. My spirits soar in the 'Reaching to heaven blue sky days' and these are the best for image taking. But I also love the mist. Mist lends itself well to mystery. You can hardly say mystery without it.

(Cow in the meadow with the hills beyond it)

Magic returns again in the long summer evenings. We're blessed with a spectacular view of sunsets over the meadow, the pond, and hills with the Allegheny Mountains rolling beyond them. Once again, the geese may enter into these images. It depends on how sneaky I am and how fast they are. The host of lightning bugs blinking in the garden and meadows are impossible to capture on film. Cicadas serenade us from the trees. Earthy farm smells are not for everyone but you have to love the scenery.

(Our pond at dusk)

(Our barn at sunset with sunflowers)

(Phlox at dusk)

I've captured glimpses of midsummer in 'The Shire' as I term our little patch of earth and hope you enjoy my sharing.

(The geese heading toward the meadow-away from me)

(The geese watching the sunset)

(Cows in pasture beneath the setting sun)

'The summer night is like a perfection of thought.' ~Wallace Stevens
'In summer, the song sings itself.' ~William Carlos Williams
'Each fairy breath of summer, as it blows with loveliness, inspires the blushing rose.' ~Author Unknown

(Cone flowers)

'Love is to the heart what the summer is to the farmer’s year — it brings to harvest all the loveliest flowers of the soul.' ~Author Unknown
'Then followed that beautiful season... Summer....
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.'
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

'To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie –
True Poems flee –'
~Emily Dickinson, c.1879

'I drifted into a summer-nap under the hot shade of July, serenaded by a cicada lullaby, to drowsy-warm dreams of distant thunder.' ~Terri Guillemets

'One of the most delightful things about a garden is the anticipation it provides.' ~W.E. Johns, The Passing Show

(Gaillardia)

***In addition to the farm and garden, I'm an author. I write historical, time travel, and paranormal romance. Also young adult. Plus nonfiction about gardening and country life. For more on my books, visit my Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/default/e/B002BLLAJ6/

Chronicling Spring in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia

I am a gardener, animal lover, author... Fortunately, I haven't had to choose a single focus and incorporate my loves into my writing. Among my greatest passions is the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia in general, and our farm in particular. The meadows are covered in a wash of green and looking far more hopeful than the brown hue we've lived with since November A blanket of snow is pretty but we haven't had much snowfall this year. Thank heavens the rain has returned after months of drought.

Our drained and dug out farm pond is finally beginning to fill back up again. It was a dry crater all fall and winter like something on the moon. The barnyard geese were suspicious at first, but now go for swims. We are watching for the migrating waterfowl and birds who were once regular visitors here. Sadly, our place was off their radar last spring. Having an alive pond again is exciting. We're consulting experts about what to do regarding fish, and I'm toying with getting ducks. The original pond had filled with silt over the decades and had to be redone. It's located in a marshy spot in the meadow fed by wet water springs and is the head waters of Cooks Creek, which ultimately feeds into the Chesapeake Bay. Fencing keeps the cows out. We have planted some trees and shrubs around it and will plant more.

(Geese enjoying the new grass. Ruins of an old barn visible back behind our farm)

I'm in my 'giddy about the earth awakening mode', or was, until the wind storm hit. My spirits are a little battered, and the crocus are kind of sad after the roaring bluster. But I trust the blossoms will revive and new ones will open when this gale finishes with us and sweeps away. March really roared in this year. Inclement weather is a trial to gardeners everywhere. We hopeful souls go on. We must. I'm chronicling spring as it unfolds in my bit of earth.

Early crocus and snowdrops below.

I saved a lot of seeds last year, ordered many others, and started some early varieties of flowers, herbs, and vegetables in my little greenhouse. One late February day was so balmy, it felt like May. I planted my early salad greens in the garden during the warm spell. Then the lion returned, and the seeds will slumber until the warmth comes back.

"Who loves a garden still his Eden keeps;
Perennial pleasures plants, and wholesome harvest reaps."
~A. Bronson Alcott, "The Garden," Tablets, 1868

"It was such a pleasure to sink one's hands into the warm earth, to feel at one's fingertips the possibilities of the new season." ~Kate Morton, The Forgotten Garden

(Miniature iris return faithfully each year)

(Yellow crocus)

***For more on me follow my Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Beth-Trissel/e/B002BLLAJ6/

Puppies and Changing Leaves

Be advised, I'm writing this in the company of a puppy of little brain, like Winnie the Pooh, with a big heart, and even bigger puddles. At seven months, Cooper is a handful, chasing the kitties, and into everything, then he goes into sweet mode and I feel guilty for complaining. Such is life with this boisterous baby. He's a Morkie, Yorkie/Maltese cross, but more Yorkie in the mix so a heap of bounding terrier. Super busy. Super loving. Super devoted. Hard to housebreak. Must change my socks from stepping in a puddle. Again. Walk the puppy. Again. Cooper and I head outside a lot and I'm aware of every flower, leaf, the change of seasons on the farm.

(Cooper watching me)

Back to fall 2017. Autumnal splendor is late to the party in the Shenandoah Valley this year. We began with hopeful indicators, rain and cooler temps in late August, but that dissipated and the weather turned hot and dry. Colors getting underway halted for the most part and we despaired of ever seeing them. How we've longed for our wondrously painted trees, without having to spray paint the leaves ourselves. But now, we've had rain and colder temperatures and ta da! Fall. It's too late for some trees but many are strutting their stuff.

I glory in this time of year. Granted, I'm besotted in April, giddy with spring fever But October brings a mellow kind of joy. I'm happy for the summer heat to go, and though I miss the flowers, pollen isn't my friend. Frost brings freedom to us allergy sufferers. I've cleared the vegetable garden and planted greens, beets, and radishes in the salad patch We shall see if they emerge and thrive in late winter or early spring. I missed my window for a fall garden.

I'm also writing, of course, working on the next time slip/time travel romance in my Ladies in Time Series. I may never finish this book. Writing while hopping up to walk a puppy every half hour or forget to my regret is challenging. My other alternative is to put him in his pen and insist on 'nighty night' no matter what time of day it is. I feel like I have a toddler in my care. And yes, he is adorable. I got him because I was devastated after losing my dear little Sadie and had forgotten what an exuberant puppy is. I remember now. 

Some pictures from our farm or just up the road.

(The woods up behind our meadow)

(Old Order Mennonite School Behind Our Farm)

(Sunset behind our Farm)

 (The old cemetery at Cooks Creek Presbyterian Church a mile up the road. and maple tree in front of the church below.)

(Buggy going past our farm from last fall)

(Cool tree in the mist in our meadow)

My time travel fixation is ongoing. This is the blurb from my upcoming November 10th release, The White Lady (Book 2, Ladies in Time) in pre-order now in Kindle at Amazon.

Avery Dunham has always been ready to follow her friend, time-traveling wizard, Ignus Burke, on incredible adventures. This time, though, she has serious misgivings. It's just one week before Christmas, but she cannot get him to change his mind. The usually cool and collected magic-wielding leader is wholly obsessed by the portrait of the White Lady whom he is bent on rescuing.

Almost as soon as they begin their journey, it becomes clear their mission is a trap.

Avery was right: this adventure is not going to be like any other,

(If a ghostly white lady summons you back in time--don't go.)

For more on me, please visit https://bethtrissel.wordpress.com/

Follow my Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Beth-Trissel/e/B002BLLAJ6/

Geese Have Quite A Lot to Say, Actually

Here are the geese having a clandestine meeting. They do that a lot, with secretive quacks and goosey murmurs which change to alarmed scrambles when I'm spotted. Bad me, spying on the Goose Alliance.

But I feel compelled to stay abreast of their plots. Even more furtive, are these gatherings at dusk with the cows. I suspect they're planning an uprising and trying to take over the farm.

Again, all appears innocent in this early morning shot of them grouped beyond the flowers, but beware. Geese For All and All for Geese.  I'm suspiciously absent from their mantra.  I could be wrong, though, and the gaggle are exchanging knitting patterns. In case I'm right on, I will continue my surveillance. Does anybody truly know the mind of a goose?

"The goose that lays the golden eggs likes to lay where there are eggs already." Charles Spurgeon (No idea what this means, but I'll keep a lookout for it).

Happy Boots, Happy Self

I've been thinking about my garden/farm boots a lot lately, partly because I haven't ordered a new pair in two years, and daughter Alison is also debating this question. We're fans of the colorful spirit-lifting kind. She's torn about which pair to get. Initially, you can get away with one pair of oh, say yellow polka dot boots for everyday and town wear, if you hose them off after feeding the goats, chickens, etc. But it doesn't take long before the gloss is gone. Mud and manure take their toll, which leaves you really needing two pairs. 

I've actually accumulated three of the same happy print over the years. They've held up well, but one pair has formed a small hole in the sole--easily detected when wearing them in the wet--and all have lost their shine. No zip left. Question is, do I get another identical pair because they're so swell, or risk a new pattern?

My son-in-law asked why not just wear plain black, which better endure and are what most men favor. My farmer husband and son do. Alison said her soul would be just as dark while wearing them. Where's the fun in that?

What it gets down to is having the money to purchase alternate pairs of the same puddle splashing, mud slogging, critter feeding (and other stuff) boots. It can seem rather frivolous when watching your budget. However, when my last new pair were still fresh enough for town, I wore them to get allergy shots to the delight of nurses and patients, and cheered passersby at the grocery store. I brought joy and light with me wherever I went/skipped. There's far more to boots than you may realize. Children know this.

Ask a kid if they want yellow/pink polka dots, bright flowers, happy animals, or back boots and see.

"Everyone chases happiness, not noticing that happiness is at their heels" – Bertolt Brecht (Literally, if you're wearing the boots.)

One of my current glossless pairs pictured above. For those eager to know, these are called Sloggers and sold at Amazon. Isn't everything?

Once you choose hope, anything’s possible. ~Christopher Reeve

Take hope. Each new day holds possibilities, and God is with us, even though sometimes it may not seem so. Below are some inspiring quotes to uplift our spirits as we go into 2017 with sunrise images from the farm.

(Sunrise of glory on the farm taken by me)

Hope is the physician of each misery. ~Irish Proverb

God puts rainbows in the clouds so that each of us — in the dreariest and most dreaded moments — can see a possibility of hope. ~Maya Angelou

"Hope" is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all....
~Emily Dickinson, c.1861

What is Hope? a star that gleaming
O'er the future's troubled sky,
Struggles, tremulously beaming,
To reveal what there may lie.
~R.A.P., "Hope," in Southern Literary Messenger, December 1840

(Morning has broken taken by hubby Dennis)

Where hope would otherwise become hopelessness, it becomes faith. ~Robert Brault, rbrault.blogspot.com

All it takes is one bloom of hope to make a spiritual garden. ~Terri Guillemets

You've gotta have hope. Without hope life is meaningless. Without hope life is meaning less and less. ~Author Unknown

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. ~Anne Lamott

(Fiery sunrise by me)

Hope is warmth against the cold winter of adversity. ~Terri Guillemets

Hope is the word which God has written on the brow of every man. ~Victor Hugo

Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark. ~George Iles

Hope is some extraordinary spiritual grace that God gives us to control our fears, not to oust them. ~Vincent McNabb

When the world says, "Give up,"
Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."
~Author Unknown

Thankfulness

On this fine Thanksgiving, I am thankful for my precious husband, family, and friends, including the furry ones. I'd add 'feathered' friends but the geese don't actually like me. I should get some ducks. I'm grateful to live on a farm in the beautiful, richly historic, Shenandoah Valley where my ancestors were among the earliest settlers. I'm surrounded by fields, meadows, wooded hills, mountains, and my slumbering gardens which will awake this spring and burst forth. Though I may need to toss more seed around and put in new plantings if the winter is too cold. Such is gardening. Still, I'm always delighted by what does survive--except for the weeds. For all its challenges, I love country life. (Image above taken by daughter Elise behind our farm)

(The farm pond with wooded hills behind taken by me earlier this fall)

Being a prolific author, I must include how grateful I am for a lively imagination, writing skills, an excellent editor, and publishing company. I am grateful for The Wild Rose Press. I recently finished a ghostly time travel romance entitled Somewhere My Lady, for my Somewhere in Time series, that will come out in the new year. As of yesterday, I am at work on a new paranormal/time travel for this series. With writing, and reading, you can travel all over the place and not leave your couch, chair, bed...Inspiration is all around me.

"If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice." ~Meister Eckhart

What we're really talking about is a wonderful day set aside on the fourth Thursday of November when no one diets. I mean, why else would they call it Thanksgiving? ~Erma Bombeck, "No One Diets on Thanksgiving," 26 November 1981

Thanksgiving, after all, is a word of action. ~W.J. Came

This Summer I Took Up Photography

I've upped the time I spend outdoors this summer, working in my garden(s), and seeking potential images. The geese, flowers, sunsets, fireflies, any aspect of nature, are all subjects of my pics. Some of my images are surprisingly good. Many, not so much. But it's fascinating to see what I've captured. So far, I'm just using the camera on my Android phone.

You may wonder if I'm getting any writing done? I'm kind of stuck in my WIP. "Wibbly wobbly timey wimey...stuff," and I haven't figured out all the wibbles yet. But thoughts whir outdoors in the fresh air and sunshine--or rain. I go out if it's not a downpour to scout for geese and rainbows. 

When I began my garden forays earlier this spring, I was in slug mode. A half hours work and I was exhausted, my back aching. Now, I've gained more endurance. I still wear out, but not nearly as fast. Even after the cold weather returns, I plan to continue my journey's outside to take images. Being outdoors is good for the spirit, and photography rejuvenates me. 

I spend a lot of time sneaking up on the geese. I tried tossing grain in their direction to get closer, but they feared I was throwing stuff at them and fled. Suspicious gaggle. I happened upon them counting cows (image below). They don't count very well. However, they have a lot to say. Mostly random stuff.

Cows are much easier to photograph. They're always hopeful I've brought them a little something. Sometimes I have. The geese hold frequent meetings. Yesterday, they voted on their favorite cookie. It was intense. Below, they're assembling before striking out on a grand adventure. They have no clue where. They rarely have a clue about anything. Barnyard geese are not overly bright.

We've had so much rain this summer, it's made gardening far easier. Also challenging because of all the weeds. But I'd rather fight them than suffer a hideous drought. I have many heirloom flowers that reseed themselves, in addition to wild flowers, perennials, herbs, and vegetables. And whatever the birds plant. A pic below of the main garden in its July glory before storms toppled a lot of plants. I'm trying, not very successfully, to prop them back up.

Sunsets are often wondrous here with the spectacular panorama of the meadow, farm pond, hills above our farm, and the barn. Most evenings, I scurry outside at sunset. Sunrise is tougher to capture, though I have tried and will continue to. If the sky is really amazing at sunset, I run from one side of the yard/barn/meadow to the other getting different angles, and back again. I've never liked exercise for the sake of exercise, but it's crazy what I'll do for a picture.t I'll do for a picture.

Endless possibilities for images lie before me. And the story ideas that come while I shoot away. 

This morning, I discovered tiger lilies blooming in my jungle of a backyard garden They are splendid in the light. Like jewels.

.

(White phlox below at sunrise.)