Prairierth Farm

  (Atlanta, Illinois)
Life on the prairie
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first snow

Sunday morning - the world is white as forgiveness and perfectly still. I grab the camera and run out to the pasture where the black cows are trying to figure out what happened to yesterday's green. The new bull, a Belted Gallaway (black with a wide white belt around his middle) looks like a hind quarter following a front quarter around a snowman. They raise their heads to stare back at me, then start wandering toward the barnlot and fresh bales of hay. The chickens were thoroughly tramatized by the new landscape - for a few minutes anyway. They just stood at the chickenhouse door, apparently trying to figure out why anyone would go out there when there's plenty to eat inside. By afternoon most will have stretched their wings and settled back on the roosts for an afternoon nap. Not a bad idea, I thought. When I got back to the house my 7 year old was rolling a snowman's mid-section through the yard bare handed and red faced. "Where's your gloves?" . . . "Where's your stocking cap?' . . . ."where's your snowsuit?" . . . we went back in the house to warm up and start over. Winter's not so bad I guess.
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