Neighbors of mine have been growing all summer.
We never talk politics, these neighbors and me. I know none of them voted for Donald Trump--they are too young to vote, although, to hear Kris Kobach tell it, maybe they were registered and voted illegally in New Hampshire.
The Death Row Turkeys are getting bigger by the day. They spent most of the summer just huddled together and pecking at the feeding troughs, while the wild turkeys, just on the other side of the wire fence, fed from the ground, the green shoots and grass. Every time I stop to take their picture, the white Death Row Turkeys pick up their heads and scurry over to me, mistaking me for the bipedal mammal who feeds them, farmer Hurd.
These are "free range turkeys" but they are nowhere near as adventurous and free as the flocks of wild turkeys we are seeing all over our yards and emerging from the woods.
Rush Limbaugh would say this is what happens when you give people free feed, rather than making them find their own--they just get lazy and cluster around the feeding trough. Judging from photos of Rush, he knows a thing or two about the feeding trough.
Their fellow farm animals, across the road, the pink pigs have grown a lot over the past few weeks as well. They also think I am farmer Hurd, and come right up to the fence in hopes of edibles.
Apples are bagged and ready in Applecrest farm. The Macuns, a tart variety I favor, are just in this weekend. Crowds were lined up to buy farm produce.
Smutty Nose brewery just half a mile down from my house, has new creations in for the fall.
Today, it was 84 at the beach, and Plaice Cove looked like a mid July weekend, the lot nearly full.
The lawns on our street have finally recovered from last summer's drought, all the bare spots finally filled in. It takes me an hour and a half to hand mow the lawn, but I get all the swirls and patterns I like, so it's worth it.
But the leaves are starting to turn.
The joke is there are four seasons in New Hampshire: Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter and Road Repair Season. Days like this remind me this is stuff we tell other people to keep them from moving here.
Nature survives round these parts. Nice to be alive in New Hampshire today.
We never talk politics, these neighbors and me. I know none of them voted for Donald Trump--they are too young to vote, although, to hear Kris Kobach tell it, maybe they were registered and voted illegally in New Hampshire.
The Death Row Turkeys are getting bigger by the day. They spent most of the summer just huddled together and pecking at the feeding troughs, while the wild turkeys, just on the other side of the wire fence, fed from the ground, the green shoots and grass. Every time I stop to take their picture, the white Death Row Turkeys pick up their heads and scurry over to me, mistaking me for the bipedal mammal who feeds them, farmer Hurd.
These are "free range turkeys" but they are nowhere near as adventurous and free as the flocks of wild turkeys we are seeing all over our yards and emerging from the woods.
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| No coops for these birds |
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| But they do like hanging out together |
Their fellow farm animals, across the road, the pink pigs have grown a lot over the past few weeks as well. They also think I am farmer Hurd, and come right up to the fence in hopes of edibles.
Apples are bagged and ready in Applecrest farm. The Macuns, a tart variety I favor, are just in this weekend. Crowds were lined up to buy farm produce.
Smutty Nose brewery just half a mile down from my house, has new creations in for the fall.
Today, it was 84 at the beach, and Plaice Cove looked like a mid July weekend, the lot nearly full.
The lawns on our street have finally recovered from last summer's drought, all the bare spots finally filled in. It takes me an hour and a half to hand mow the lawn, but I get all the swirls and patterns I like, so it's worth it.
But the leaves are starting to turn.
The joke is there are four seasons in New Hampshire: Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter and Road Repair Season. Days like this remind me this is stuff we tell other people to keep them from moving here.
Nature survives round these parts. Nice to be alive in New Hampshire today.
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| Horse farm, Kensington |
Phantom,
ReplyDeleteYou sir are just full of surprises and truly a man of many talents. A patterned lawn-wow... Maybe at some point when you have more time you could take a stab at sculpting shrubbery-given your obvious affection for farm animals perhaps shrubs in the shape of turkeys and pigs would be fitting. Why you'd be the envy of all your neighbors...a latter day Olmsted..
Maud
Maud,
ReplyDeleteGreat idea. I'll get right to work on an azalea turkey and a boxwood pig.
Frederick Law Olmsted, the architect of Central Park, New York City, alluded to by a New Hampshire citizen who is aware of the world beyond the borders of her own home shire.
What next?
New Hampshire folk will be talking about China, reading the New Yorker and the New York Times and going to see "Hamilton."
This is the fearlessness of them what stormed the beaches at Normandy--we can explore and engage the world. We don't have to bury ourselves at home in the shire, fearful of that great wide world out there.