Life on a family farm
in the wilds of
Upstate New York
Tuesday, October 06, 2015
Color me Mountain
I'm a valley person. Grew up in the foothills, but moved to this valley very young....and kept coming back here time after time. Farming is good in river valleys, warmer, moister, better dirt all around.
Mountains are cold and bony, hard and stony, and unforgiving of crop production. Hike the hidden high places and you will see skeletal remains of failed homesteads, foundations drifted over with leaves; vines and trees clawing at chimneys, and pulling them down. The mountains were hard on the folks that settled this area, while the valleys gathered them in and helped them grow..
Mountains are irresistible though. In my life, there have always been forays closer to the peaks, some lasting longer than others. I lived in a cabin once for a few years...up there....
And to folks who love them, no matter how far from the mountains we move in time or space, they always sing that seductive song every time we see them in the distance.
It grows louder and louder the higher we climb until we can hear it all around us...or see it, because mountain music can be seen, smelled, heard, and felt. We experienced it strong and fine this past Sunday. Good to know it's always there.