The fall colours are out in variety and force, and as always seems to happen, the colour change is followed by strong sustained winds to knock off all the leaves, and make “fall” not a figure of speech. It’s no hurricane or anything but it’s a gusty evening.
The hens are behaving strangely, procrastinating about going in the coop.
And the guineas are electing to pile up on their skycoop rather than sit on the peak of the greenhouse tonight. The two chicks are doing well. Saw another bat too!
It seems here in Nova Scotia we’re getting a piece of the rainstorm that has been creeping up the Eastern coast and is currently flooding Ontario and Quebec, and New Brunswick.
After a mostly just drizzly day, the rain is hammering down now, and the wind is gusting. The ground is too saturated to absorb any more water, and all my water collection vessels are full to the brim.
The hens spent the day ducking into the greenhouse when it squalled (I´m so loth to evict them, although it´s about time to plant the second half); the pigs spent much of the day in bed, staying dry.
Hugh rode a 200km brevet today; a soggy ride.
What really matters to me when the house is hammered by wind and rain is knowing that all my animals are as dry and cozy as we are in the little house. The hens are hunkered in tight, tested coops; the pigs are on a pallet piled with hay, above the rising puddles in their house; the bees were flying today, their hive is lashed down and they have a jar of syrup; and the guineas are high and dry (literally) on their tall coop, still in the greenhouse.
Let it rain!
The storm is gone, and it took all the snow with it.
No trees down and nothing damaged, but everything not tied down was thrown around.
It’s a big chicken day today, with the ground exposed and the worms flooded to the surface. They poured outside and have been dashing around ever since.