Well it's been a few months and winter is beginning to move in on the meadow. We had our first snow a few weeks ago and the forecast is for snow today so it sounds like this is it. Here she comes. 
Where we share the beauty of the changing seasons on our 48 acre off grid homestead in the Cariboo Chilcotin. Where Touch Wood Rings are created, and where we live and work and play. 'The Homestone' is the name of the boulder that marks the entrance to our place.
Well it's been a few months and winter is beginning to move in on the meadow. We had our first snow a few weeks ago and the forecast is for snow today so it sounds like this is it. Here she comes. 
Saturday, August 13th. It's been a hot, smokey day on the meadow with forest fires just south of us and strong winds. We've had 6 hard frosts this month. Thankfully our garden is mostly contained in a greenhouse.
The hummingbirds arrived on April 26th this year. For the past months we've had probably 30 hummers with us every day - dancing and drinking at the window, sipping on the flowers in the little garden below the kitchen window, hanging out on the fence and in the trees that David planted by the house in May this year ...
This morning our wee feathered friends were conspicuous by their absence.
Doing the breakfast dishes today I was struck with the sad realization that the hummingbirds had gone.
David came into the kitchen from his workshop and we were comisserating when one, two, three little hummers appeared at the window as if to say 'so long'. We refilled the feeders with some high test sugar water for those who lingered and still had the long journey ahead of them.
Still, it was a quiet day at the kitchen window.
A picture we took tonight at about 8pm from the porch. Here is one of 83 swallows we just counted perched along the fence.
And some notes from David tonight at 1:45 am . . .
Wildlife count - About 10 oclock this morning the mated pair of redtailed hawks flew all the way across the meadow, the lead hawk burdened down by something almost larger than he/she could carry, followed by the excited mate all the way back to the nest high in the tree on the bench above our house.
Next a great blue heron flew down the creek landing on the old bridge about a hundred yards from the kitchen window.
In the late afternoon a doe quietly browsed her way down the creek that runs by the house, totally unconcerned about our presence or the presence of our dogs. All this amidst a constant flurry of swallows, hummingbirds and blackbirds punctuated with occasional giant circle of an eagle which called a temporary all quiet to the meadow several times today. The heron appeared twice more during the day floating lazily down the creek looking for lunch then dinner. And that's just what we noticed in our busy day.
We live a blessed and mostly uniteruppted life. It's just the two of us here and the things we do. Our nearest neighbour is 10 miles away down the old logging road that leads to town. Our nearest small town is an hour down that road.
Our life and our work is powered by the sun. We heat our home and our outbuildings with wood. We cook with wood and we work with wood. The wood we use in our home comes from the wind-fall and bug killed trees on our 50 acres.
The animals we caretake and those who wander wild through our lives are sometimes the only other creatures we see for months. Our sheep have names and distinct personalities; they give us the best fertilizer and create fire breaks around the property. And they give us their delightful lambs in the spring. The chickens (our baker's dozen of 13 hens) look after our kitchen scraps. They give us beautiful eggs in return. Our greenhouse and gardens produce a short but spectacular season of fresh organic vegetables.
We have each other and the work we do. We are blessed with wonderful families and friends. We thank God and all our angels. It's a good life.
Welcome to our world.