There are times when the quality of light is a pure joy to me. On a recent visit to the farm, the sun and clouds combined in a way that seemed to defy the overcast sky.
Here is a second example. The scenery behind Jason and Charley almost looks as though it’s been painted on canvas. To me, the light feels surreal.
Do you ever experience light in a new or amazing way?
Friday afternoon, I spent some time relaxing at the farm. Carriage Hill is serene and tranquil on most days. A place to wander, explore, and visit with friends. One of the rare exceptions to the quiet on the farm is when the summer thunderstorms roll through, throwing lightning in all directions and booming in loud echoes.
Not long after arriving, I wandered down to check on the horses. That’s when drops began to fall and within moments, the sky opened up and the deluge began in earnest.
Soon, the rain was everywhere. Drops bounced off the fences and dripped from the roof lines. The water collected in pools and ran in rivulets through the barnyard.
Unfortunately for the horses, they were stuck in the downpour. There is an overhang on the back side of the barn and though they found some protection, their rear ends were soaked. Poor Jimmy and Charley had to endure the full force of the storm. because there was no room for them.
Thirty minutes passed before the thunder storm moved on and left the farm transformed by the wetness. I like the residue of the storm…wonderful light and dark wet wood and brick.
And while it’s nice to see the drops on the flowers, the sheep probably don’t appreciate being soaked with heavy wet wool.
That was the excitement on my Friday afternoon. How did I fare? Not badly at all. I found the shelter of the well’s pump shed and rode out the rain.
Have a great week, folks.
It is, I suppose, my nature to imagine conversations between people that I can see, but can’t hear. And so…
Miss Susan: I want the musicians over here, near the hay. I also want the benches around the walls. You will also need to move the corn grinder out behind the barn.
Mr. Carr: Yes’m.
Miss Susan: And Mr. Carr, I hold you personally responsible to see that the fiddle player has no liquor tonight. I will not have him dancing a jig in his union suit as we did last month.
Mr. Carr: Yes’m!
Miss Susan: Not a single drop, Mr. Carr. If I smell any liquor on that man, you won’t see a single pie the rest of the summer.
Mr. Carr: But…
Miss Susan: Not a drop!
Mr. Carr: Yes’m.