TRIUMPH OF SPIRIT IN LOVE, NATURE & ART

Posts tagged “Dairy barns

When the Snows Come

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My husband and I sit in our living room with all the little still-intact dairy barn  windows showing flakes falling as if we are on ship at sea in a snowfall.  Except for the high ceiling the living room has the feeling of a ship cabin, our converted dairy barn, and I think it is most beautiful when the snow is falling.

The glass doors at the pentagon of the far end of the barn gives us perfect view of the suet bird feeder.  The bird feeder in winter is our television.  We watch male cardinals, bright red in the stark white, feed and contend with the beautiful, bullying blue jays.  And the more modest and gentle little juncos and sparrows touch our hearts with their humility.

Like many barns, ours was built near the road so we do get some traffic noise.  But in the meadow out back beyond the marsh and stream, we are far removed from the road and from all.  And when it snows, it is so beautiful in the quiet, looking at the animal tracks and feeling the spirits in the nearby now-graveless graveyard.  Our secret little piece of Paradise.  And to stand there in the silence, in the virgin white, and see the abstract patterns of the snow on the surrounding hundreds of trees is Divine.

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Cow Proves Animals Love, Think, And Act

This story says it all.  See site for a happy outcome to this story in the comments.  One farmer sees the light at least.

Violet's Vegan Comics

I just found a story here, on the globalanimal.org website, which is a wake up call for all animal lovers who still use dairy.  Just like Deidra, the mother in this story demonstrated not only the love she had for her calf, but the complicated thought process she used in her attempt to save him:

By Holly Cheever DVM:

I would like to tell you a story that is as true as it is heartbreaking. When I first graduated from Cornell’s School of Veterinary Medicine, I went into a busy dairy practice in Cortland County. I became a very popular practitioner due to my gentle handling of the dairy cows. One of my clients called me one day with a puzzling mystery: his Brown Swiss cow, having delivered her fifth calf naturally on pasture the night before, brought the new baby to the barn and was put into the…

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When the Snows Come

Sitting in our living room, with all the little, dairy barn windows alive with falling flakes of snow, it is as if my husband and I were on a ship, floating on a sea of white.  The living room in our converted dairy barn has the feeling of a ship cabin, and I think it most beautiful when the snow is falling.

The glass doors in the kitchen give us perfect view of the bird feeder, our television in all seasons.  In winter we watch male cardinals, bright red in the stark white, feed and contend with the beautiful, bullying blue jays.  And the more modest, gentle, tiny juncos and sparrows touch our hearts with their humility.P1110239_edited-1

One winter, when the snow had covered the ground for a month or so and turned to solid ice, we watched, horrified, as squirrels clawed at the feeder and fought with one another for a chance to feed, making shrill cries of territoriality.  The ground was too frozen for them to retrieve the nuts they had buried in the fall.  They were fighting off starvation.

Waking up in the morning there is no need for a weather report as we see the snow piled high on the surrounding trees and see the sky through what used to be the hayloft door, now a cathedral window. The thermometer tells us how cold it is though we can feel the chill in the air.  We gauge the depth of the snowfall by watching the squirrels running along the limbs of the trees, cleaning off the heavy snow.  They seem friskiest just after a snowfall.

And if we are lucky, and the snow is deep enough, we get out our snow-shoes and climb up the hill out back to what we were told was once a Christian Indian burial ground.  There are no markers left but the spot has the air of the sacred and it affords mountain views in winter.  High on the hill overlooking the valley, it seems a perfect place for a burial ground.  The snowfall makes it easier to walk the hill.  In the summer the path is too full of saplings and underbrush to walk the “meadow.”

On our half of the meadow there is a squat fir tree which provides a great shelter for deer in a storm and the deer love the meadow. There are a few blown over trees.  And as we snow-shoe we see all kinds of animal tracks which we attempt to identify.

Like many barns, ours was built near the road so there is some traffic noise.  But in the meadow we are far removed from the road.  When it snows, it is so beautiful in the quiet, looking at the animal tracks, and feeling the spirits in the graveyard.  A secret, little piece of Paradise.  And to stand there in the virgin white silence, and see the abstract patterns of the snow on the surrounding hundreds of trees, is a taste of the Divine.