ORANGE — It’s cold here. Sub-zero cold. The sun just rose somewhere behind the curtain of snow, but there’s nothing piercing or warm about its rays. Our herd of Red Devons appears to float, orbiting a bale of last September’s grass. I stand, transfixed by the whiteness of it all, but a blast of wind hurries me along toward the warm farmhouse and a pile of scrambled eggs.
Deep winter is finally upon us here at The Farm School.