Out my window this morning

I got up and sure as the sunset said last night, it was a glorious morning. This is the time to enjoy a 4 season climate. I experience fall here differently than back home. Most of the trees change colors here, whereas in Washington, they're green all year (with the appreciated exception!).




I called my cat to follow and she did as I went to get Baasha. (See, we have mud too.)



Lately I've been scheduling Baasha's days in a rather strict manner. By day he comes in so I can fuss over him and he can eat hay, and at night I put him out to graze (with hay also, that he ignores). He doesn't have the choice right now to come and go as he pleases, because my sacrifice area needs some time; I'm trying to save the grass on our hang.




Down by our ponds I am in awe of my favorite tree ever ----- the larch. Larch trees look like pines but are actually deciduous - they lose their needles, but before that, they change colors spectacularly around this week. I think it's God's creativity that he made an "evergreen" that changes like the oak.



In spring they are bright bluish green, in summer green, then orange, then yellow, I think there is nothing better, tree-wise. (And this week we discovered a little 4 foot baby larch on our hang! Our most precious of trees, I might cut down some birches to give it room.)



(Please forgive me, long time readers, cuz I seem to go off every year this time about these trees.)

I want to say that I have not edited these images in any way ---but that's obvious, right? : )

I won't post edited pictures without a disclaimer; sometimes it's hard to tell what's real out there on the internet.


Baasha didn't seem to notice the splendor, as I snapped pictures.




The sun cut through the mist behind him.




The cat looked for prey around Baasha's trough. See, we have some mud here too. It is not a perfect system like I wish. *sigh*




Baasha left me, seeing that I stood there preferring my camera. He did not appreciate the beauty of this morning.




I followed him up the hill to his stall, where his warm breakfast waited.









Taking a look into my greenhouse, it looked spooky in the fog and shadows.



Looking down I saw that a mouse did not drown, rather he froze to death in the bucket. So little water, he could have stood up. It must have been the cold water that killed him.

I dumped the bucket, called the cat, and called it her "mouse popsicle" as she ate it. Then I scrubbed the bucket with lots of soap.



Disgusting.



Here are my two favorite trees again, to get the mouse image out of your head.