The ground lays in slumber as the bare trees sway, chilled in the breeze. Nuthatch birds peck at seams in tree bark searching for tiny bugs. Doves flock together grooming the soil finding left over seeds as squirrels scurry through piles of leaves in search of their forgotten nuts. Frosty fog drifts across the land.
Up in the tall poplar tree, sits the resident red tail hawk. His presence is grand as he surveys the fields for his supper. Waiting, he watches for the slightness wiggle of grass. Below the ol' feral cat crouches down ready for his opportunity to snag his dinner. Wonder who will be first?
Smoke twirls out of the chimney of the shop and the steamy windows glow with light. Amidst the warm shop the workbench is scattered with projects waiting their turn. Just outside frost lingers on the fenders of the faithful tractor.
But in the greenhouse, trays are stacked waiting to receive their mission. Baskets and vessels are marked and filled with fresh potting soil. Silence will be replaced soon with the hum of heaters. Earthy scents will fill the air and joyful chatter as the trays are being planted. Empty propagation tables will be loaded, and water lines placed. A new calander hangs with lists of orders and daily chores.
Even though the land is slumbering, the cycle is about to begin. As you look around, in the corner a locked cabinet is filled with thousands of seeds all nestled neatly in packets.
Seeds of promise of the New Birth of the New Year.