i spent a couple of years as a milker on small-scale industrial dairy farms. milking on a modern dairy is all about rhythm, the kind of rhythm that's all about muscle memory and the kind of subconscious hyper-focus that you see on films of ladies picking bad coffee beans off a constantly moving conveyor belt. … Continue reading kinesis
Tag: horses
wind
on a gentle western slope near the summit at a reasonably high altitude, wind is a near constant on the farm. i count days before i can safely burn brush. i curse it in winter when it brings below-freezing temperatures down to subzero windchills. i goad it in spring when i need it to blow … Continue reading wind
fear
after our two weeks of bitter, arctic cold, we had two days of thaw. it was 50ºF (10ºC) and rainy, which brought down the snow pack a lot and left hard, treacherous ice behind. i ran the hose twice: once at the start of the thaw and once at the end of it. three more … Continue reading fear
negative
it's -7ºF (-21.6ºC) right now with howling winds. the windchill at the closest NWS weather station is -25ºF (-31.6ºC). i'd like to think this will be the coldest night of the year, but the low forecast for tomorrow night is -23ºF (-30.5ºC) with windchill values as low as -41º (that's the same in both fahrenheit … Continue reading negative
wx
the weather has been eventful this week. we've had subzero windchills, above-freezing temperatures, a snowstorm on a day it was too cold to snow, a rainstorm on a day it was too cold to rain, and i'm looking out the window now on thickening fog at 28ºF. it has been drizzling all day and everything's … Continue reading wx
zero
after our long autumn, winter has finally set about us with its icy knives. even with daytime temperatures in the teens and twenties (fahrenheit), a breath of wind will tug the "feels like" temperature down below zero. the arctic air along with the foot of snow that we got early last week encourages indoor living, … Continue reading zero
origin
pale horses moving through trees, dappled with darkness, the ghosts of a blizzard, their hoofbeats an echo of glaciers scraping at the roots of the earth. unseen traces drag winter behind them like a great roaring, billowing wagon: ice-laden, frost-swollen, lead-grey as november clouds.
