Category Archives: Farming

Witness of Weakness

Posted on January 24, 2012 by Doc Arnett

Passing through our middle years, we are still occasionally surprised not to see that younger memory of ourselves when we look in the mirror. Continue reading →

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The Ancient of Days

Posted on January 20, 2012 by Doc Arnett

Beyond the bluffs and the bare-branched ridge,

in the thin cut between the over-hanging shroud

and the blackness of frozen ground,

Continue reading →

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The Way of Things

Posted on January 17, 2012 by Doc Arnett

Last night’s mesmerizing sunset brought a splashing of reds and pinks onto the bellies of scattering clouds stretched out in fan pattern from the west. Beneath that beauty, though, the cold rolled edge of a slate blue front laid a distinct boundary of something else. Continue reading →

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Cutting Edge

Posted on January 12, 2012 by Doc Arnett

With the wind chill at minus four and a scattering of snow on the ground, I believe that I can say that January has finally found us here in the near corner of Kansas. Continue reading →

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A Deliberate Caution

Posted on January 9, 2012 by Doc Arnett

a very deliberate caution

that does not allow

the seem of circumstance

to overwhelm the reality of truth.

Continue reading →

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Unseasonable

Posted on January 6, 2012 by Doc Arnett

For the second time in a week, we reached sixty degrees yesterday. At the time of year when our normal high temperatures are in the teens, we’re looking at another week of the forties. The day started out with ominous omens. Continue reading →

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Winter Pasture

Posted on December 23, 2011 by Doc Arnett

There is something about unity
that pleases even the heart of God. Continue reading →

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Atonement

Posted on December 23, 2011 by Doc Arnett

The early dawn sky to the west is a pale blue, tinged with the sort of soft pink that only shows in this time of night’s fading into day, the time between dark and sun. Continue reading →

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A Small Inconvenience

Posted on November 30, 2011 by Doc Arnett

A few more mornings of hauling water bucket by bucket and I will have to re-evaluate my preferences. Continue reading →

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After the Front

Posted on November 29, 2011 by Doc Arnett

To the east, just above the ridge that runs through Wathena, the last edge of three days’ of clouds forms a thin slate bed. Above that, a dull red lightens into pink, gives way to a pale hint of blue that stretches up and meets the passing darkness of night rising into day.
Continue reading →

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