Perspective is everything. There have been summers, in years past, where my main focus was on harvesting and storing animal feed for the winter. This meant harvesting grain and cutting and baling hay. These activities depend primarily on “good drying days,” which means watching the weather closely and hoping for a few consecutive icons of sunny weather on the weather report. During that time, a 20% chance of rain was enough to spoil a harvest and often not worth the risk; the question was: what was the chance it might rain?
Our farm has evolved and changed since my days of riding in a combine and plowing and discing for days behind a team of horses or riding on a my father-in-law’s IH tractor. Now the equation is simple: for every inch of rain, we get more grass growth. More grass = more food for the chickens, pigs and cattle on pasture. This equation has shifted my bias from hoping for clear skies to hoping those percentage numbers go up.
This summer has been cooler than some, and the cool afternoons are a pleasure to enjoy. However, June yielded just over 2″ of rain for our farm and we came into the first two weeks of July with only a smidge more rain. We normally average 1″ rain per week during the summer, so we were way behind. Fields were turning brown, our temporary fence posts were getting difficult to push into the ground, and the seasonal stream by our house had long run dry. Last week we had a much needed rainstorm and Lovett, Otis and I enjoyed the summer rain. This week there was some forecast of rain, but the prediction kept shifting and changing. Not wanting to get my hopes up at more rain I assumed the rain would not come.
My two precipitation perspectives are different in a few ways. Most notably as the clouds rolled in on Thursday evening, the temperature dropped and the smell of rain blew on the winds I felt excitement and anticipation. This is a welcome shift from the building dread that dark clouds bring on an afternoon baling hay. As the rain began to pound on our roof I could almost feel the relief as the thirsty ground slurped up the much needed rain.
When we crawled into bed later that evening I was still assuming the weather report was overly optimistic in its prediction of more showers during the night. We had received a good amount of rain and that must be all that we would get for the day. To my surprise Racey and I were awoken to the mist of wind and rain blowing through our bedroom window as the next round of thundershowers filled our farm puddles once more. Racey gave my perspective a not so gentle nudge as she hopped out of bed to closed our windows. So much for my assurances that the rain was over. Perhaps someday I will find the presence of mind to see both the opportunity of a long stretch of blue skies and the relief of a soaking rain.
Reber Rock Farm Blog 