Our complex is in an area where there are only three roads out. One was closed, and another was closed in one direction. WAY too much rain.
On the way to the farm, around Boston (NY) on Rte 219, there are small cliffs of outcroppings on the side of the road. Allofasudden (whcih really should be ONE word) I noticed waterfalls on the rock faces every 20 or 30 feet. I am NOT talking about dripping, but actual foot-or-more-wide cascades falling at a few galons per second into a torrent of a river that was once adrainage ditch. I KNEW I should have had my camera on me, and vowed (again) never to be without one in the future.
After another closed road near East Otto, New York, and passing other scenes of rushing water in fields that would have been nice to capture on film, I got to the farm (late) and fortunately stayed inside the whole time sorting rotten potatoes from good ones. Met “Lizzy” a new, temporary shareworker at the farm, and we were done early. Grabbed “medium size” pullet eggs (50 cents per dozen) for the first time at the Musall Farm, and came home to dry, eat, and make phone calls before running off to Alexander for the Gas & Steam Show.
Got there around 5 and it rained most of the day. Then, the most amazing twilight and glimpse of sunset I have ever seen. And of course I failed to bring my F*&%ING camera! Huge rows of orange tipped clouds spliced with blue rolled away the gloom. And contrary to the forecast, there were even stars galore. Hopefully, the mudpit that was the grounds will have dried out a bit before tomorrow when I return. Maybe I should send out a dove and see if it brings back an olive branch.
And remember my camera.