This morning there was that granular frost that crystallizes on the grass stems like raw sugar, so I went out to take a few photos. The air was brisk--despite my knitted hat, my eyebrows got so cold I got an ice cream headache.
Throughout the prairie are a network of trampled-down deer paths and nest-like areas where deer have slept in the tall grass. This morning I could hear grouse grousing. The branches were outlined with glittery frost.
Our 10-acre farm straddles a small hill. The more domesticated five acres on the east include fenced pastures, my gardens, a large lawn and a grove of trees. The western half is a little piece of prairie (becoming overgrown by sumac) outlined by tall pines --windbreaks that were planted 30 or 40 years ago.
Several rows of tall white pines separate our land from the spectacular restored prairie of our neighbor. (He owns 90 acres of the original 200 acre farmstead.) I am grateful for the wisdom of past owners of this place who so cleverly planted rows of pines and deciduous trees to cut the wind, mitigate snowdrifts,and provide wildlife habitat, shade, privacy and beauty.