The Seasons: A Poem

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Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai
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The last days of summer vacation...

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#4 sunbathing on the lawn

#'s 2 & 3 cooling off in the pool.

Our set up for processing corn. We put the husked corn in the boiling pot and then in the cooler full of ice water.


Out of the pot and into the ice water. The boys would then take it in to Nicole so she could cut it from the cob and put it in quart bags. We froze 18 dozen = 21 quarts. There is still plenty more to eat and share.

The boys launching old cobs out into the field.


#1 and his sunflowers. They are about 12-14 foot tall.

#1 and his pumpkin. We planted them a bit too early as you can see.


#1 was my main helper in shucking all of the corn.

Cooling off after a hard day of picking.

Black Spot the Kitten - the one we'll probably keep. We have two more kittens if anyone wants one.





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