The new snow that fell last night is heavy, a late March snow if I were still in Minnesota. As I walked to the barn in slush, the steady rain had already began to fall. The temporary blanket of nature's best neutral covered all the crap one accumulates on a farm and doesn't quite get to the barn: hoses, buckets, pails, tins [one can't have enough 'holders' on the farm]...or the rotting pumpkins in the compost area. No one seemed that pleased with the slush, but the lonely clear cut above Boone's paddock seemed grateful to be covered, so as not to show it's scars.
