Summer meadow
@summermeadowdevon.bsky.social
Nestled in the heart of the Devonshire countryside, Summer Meadow Small Holdings is a peaceful retreat where nature thrives, and simplicity reigns. Spanning lush, green meadows,
Day 260 of Summer Meadow
The willow I planted last November has surrendered dramatically to the long, hot summer think Shakespearean death scene but quieter.
Silver lining?
A friendly horse’s bumper willow crop means we’ll be harvesting today. Honestly, survival of the bendiest.
The willow I planted last November has surrendered dramatically to the long, hot summer think Shakespearean death scene but quieter.
Silver lining?
A friendly horse’s bumper willow crop means we’ll be harvesting today. Honestly, survival of the bendiest.
September 21, 2025 at 7:58 AM
Day 260 of Summer Meadow
The willow I planted last November has surrendered dramatically to the long, hot summer think Shakespearean death scene but quieter.
Silver lining?
A friendly horse’s bumper willow crop means we’ll be harvesting today. Honestly, survival of the bendiest.
The willow I planted last November has surrendered dramatically to the long, hot summer think Shakespearean death scene but quieter.
Silver lining?
A friendly horse’s bumper willow crop means we’ll be harvesting today. Honestly, survival of the bendiest.
September 16, 2025 at 11:54 AM
Day 255 of Summer Meadow Forecast: Sunshine Sunday with scattered showers, like the universe can’t quite commit to a mood. Somewhere between “beach day” and “bring a towel.” With a hint of rosemary, because apparently even the weather’s gone artis-anal.
September 13, 2025 at 10:16 AM
Day 255 of Summer Meadow Forecast: Sunshine Sunday with scattered showers, like the universe can’t quite commit to a mood. Somewhere between “beach day” and “bring a towel.” With a hint of rosemary, because apparently even the weather’s gone artis-anal.
A brush Pony fed the pony walk the dogs Pet the sheep said hi to the chickens now it’s cup of tea time
September 13, 2025 at 8:36 AM
A brush Pony fed the pony walk the dogs Pet the sheep said hi to the chickens now it’s cup of tea time
Forward-looking
Rain teaches patience. Ponies squelch, sheep look soggy, hens act like waterproof philosophers. Super Ted eyes puddles with heroic suspicion while Sid tests gravity’s limits with each splash.
Tomorrow promises sunshine or, more likely, wetter socks. Still, tea will prevail.
Rain teaches patience. Ponies squelch, sheep look soggy, hens act like waterproof philosophers. Super Ted eyes puddles with heroic suspicion while Sid tests gravity’s limits with each splash.
Tomorrow promises sunshine or, more likely, wetter socks. Still, tea will prevail.
September 11, 2025 at 9:03 AM
Forward-looking
Rain teaches patience. Ponies squelch, sheep look soggy, hens act like waterproof philosophers. Super Ted eyes puddles with heroic suspicion while Sid tests gravity’s limits with each splash.
Tomorrow promises sunshine or, more likely, wetter socks. Still, tea will prevail.
Rain teaches patience. Ponies squelch, sheep look soggy, hens act like waterproof philosophers. Super Ted eyes puddles with heroic suspicion while Sid tests gravity’s limits with each splash.
Tomorrow promises sunshine or, more likely, wetter socks. Still, tea will prevail.
Day 253 of Summer Meadow
The rain finally stopped, as if the universe hit pause to let us breathe. Ten minutes of silence, a fragile truce between sky and soil.
Then predictably the clouds regrouped, rolled their eyes, and dumped yet another aquatic sequel.
The rain finally stopped, as if the universe hit pause to let us breathe. Ten minutes of silence, a fragile truce between sky and soil.
Then predictably the clouds regrouped, rolled their eyes, and dumped yet another aquatic sequel.
September 11, 2025 at 9:03 AM
Day 253 of Summer Meadow
The rain finally stopped, as if the universe hit pause to let us breathe. Ten minutes of silence, a fragile truce between sky and soil.
Then predictably the clouds regrouped, rolled their eyes, and dumped yet another aquatic sequel.
The rain finally stopped, as if the universe hit pause to let us breathe. Ten minutes of silence, a fragile truce between sky and soil.
Then predictably the clouds regrouped, rolled their eyes, and dumped yet another aquatic sequel.
The summer dead, a bloated thing, lies moldering in the tall grass. A chill wind whispers through the corn stalks. Something foul and ancient stirs in the September darkness. Best lock your doors. #SeptemberVibes #AutumnAwaits
September 8, 2025 at 5:52 PM
The summer dead, a bloated thing, lies moldering in the tall grass. A chill wind whispers through the corn stalks. Something foul and ancient stirs in the September darkness. Best lock your doors. #SeptemberVibes #AutumnAwaits
Day 250 at Summer Meadow
Big update day the caravan has landed, shiny and smug on its wheels.
Think of it as a spaceship with teacups, a command centre disguised as cosy.
From the outside, it whispers adventure. From the inside, it promises naps.
Big update day the caravan has landed, shiny and smug on its wheels.
Think of it as a spaceship with teacups, a command centre disguised as cosy.
From the outside, it whispers adventure. From the inside, it promises naps.
September 7, 2025 at 7:07 AM
Day 250 at Summer Meadow
Big update day the caravan has landed, shiny and smug on its wheels.
Think of it as a spaceship with teacups, a command centre disguised as cosy.
From the outside, it whispers adventure. From the inside, it promises naps.
Big update day the caravan has landed, shiny and smug on its wheels.
Think of it as a spaceship with teacups, a command centre disguised as cosy.
From the outside, it whispers adventure. From the inside, it promises naps.
September 4, 2025 at 1:18 PM
Day 246 of summer meadow
Morning everyone
Morning everyone
September 4, 2025 at 11:59 AM
Day 246 of summer meadow
Morning everyone
Morning everyone
Day 245 at Summer Meadow
Wednesday wisdom whispers: stop, breathe, and take five. The world is loud, but tea is louder in its own quiet way. Pour a cup of dream tea, let it cool, and watch the meadow tilt toward wonder.
Wednesday wisdom whispers: stop, breathe, and take five. The world is loud, but tea is louder in its own quiet way. Pour a cup of dream tea, let it cool, and watch the meadow tilt toward wonder.
September 3, 2025 at 10:52 AM
Day 245 at Summer Meadow
Wednesday wisdom whispers: stop, breathe, and take five. The world is loud, but tea is louder in its own quiet way. Pour a cup of dream tea, let it cool, and watch the meadow tilt toward wonder.
Wednesday wisdom whispers: stop, breathe, and take five. The world is loud, but tea is louder in its own quiet way. Pour a cup of dream tea, let it cool, and watch the meadow tilt toward wonder.
Day 245 at Summer Meadow
Today the grumpy man decides water is his enemy and yet, he’ll try to ride it.
Kite surfing, they say. Balance, wind, surrender.
He mutters like a prophet of doom.
Ted just shakes his head; Sid looks ready to film the disaster.
Today the grumpy man decides water is his enemy and yet, he’ll try to ride it.
Kite surfing, they say. Balance, wind, surrender.
He mutters like a prophet of doom.
Ted just shakes his head; Sid looks ready to film the disaster.
September 3, 2025 at 8:54 AM
Day 245 at Summer Meadow
Today the grumpy man decides water is his enemy and yet, he’ll try to ride it.
Kite surfing, they say. Balance, wind, surrender.
He mutters like a prophet of doom.
Ted just shakes his head; Sid looks ready to film the disaster.
Today the grumpy man decides water is his enemy and yet, he’ll try to ride it.
Kite surfing, they say. Balance, wind, surrender.
He mutters like a prophet of doom.
Ted just shakes his head; Sid looks ready to film the disaster.
Day 245 of Summer Meadow, Wednesday wisdom:
never trust a wheelbarrow it knows gravity’s secrets. Chickens out-think philosophers, tea fuels the cosmos, ponies clock time in carrots, and sheep? Always lost, but with style.
never trust a wheelbarrow it knows gravity’s secrets. Chickens out-think philosophers, tea fuels the cosmos, ponies clock time in carrots, and sheep? Always lost, but with style.
September 3, 2025 at 8:25 AM
Day 245 of Summer Meadow, Wednesday wisdom:
never trust a wheelbarrow it knows gravity’s secrets. Chickens out-think philosophers, tea fuels the cosmos, ponies clock time in carrots, and sheep? Always lost, but with style.
never trust a wheelbarrow it knows gravity’s secrets. Chickens out-think philosophers, tea fuels the cosmos, ponies clock time in carrots, and sheep? Always lost, but with style.
Day 243 at Summer Meadow
We made it—September’s first breath, sharp and cool, sliding under the skin like a blade of ice. Yippee, I said, but it came out strange, like laughter in a graveyard. The ponies twitched, the chickens scattered, Ted growled low at nothing.
We made it—September’s first breath, sharp and cool, sliding under the skin like a blade of ice. Yippee, I said, but it came out strange, like laughter in a graveyard. The ponies twitched, the chickens scattered, Ted growled low at nothing.
September 1, 2025 at 8:05 AM
Day 243 at Summer Meadow
We made it—September’s first breath, sharp and cool, sliding under the skin like a blade of ice. Yippee, I said, but it came out strange, like laughter in a graveyard. The ponies twitched, the chickens scattered, Ted growled low at nothing.
We made it—September’s first breath, sharp and cool, sliding under the skin like a blade of ice. Yippee, I said, but it came out strange, like laughter in a graveyard. The ponies twitched, the chickens scattered, Ted growled low at nothing.
in a rather loud and forceful manner if they've seen it. Definitely a day for a nice hot cup of tea
August 26, 2025 at 2:28 PM
in a rather loud and forceful manner if they've seen it. Definitely a day for a nice hot cup of tea
It's a curious thing, the Oceanis.
One moment it's as calm and unbothered as a whale's afternoon nap, and the next it's... well, let's just say it appears to have misplaced its tea and is now asking everyone
One moment it's as calm and unbothered as a whale's afternoon nap, and the next it's... well, let's just say it appears to have misplaced its tea and is now asking everyone
August 26, 2025 at 2:28 PM
It's a curious thing, the Oceanis.
One moment it's as calm and unbothered as a whale's afternoon nap, and the next it's... well, let's just say it appears to have misplaced its tea and is now asking everyone
One moment it's as calm and unbothered as a whale's afternoon nap, and the next it's... well, let's just say it appears to have misplaced its tea and is now asking everyone
Day 240 of Summer Meadow
Hark!
Thor himself sharpens his hammer above the Devon sky.
The storm marches in whispers, promising its big finale at midnight. Chickens have retreated, hay bunkers secured. Even Margaret and Crystal looked skyward, muttering, “Not today, thunder dude.”
We wait.
Hark!
Thor himself sharpens his hammer above the Devon sky.
The storm marches in whispers, promising its big finale at midnight. Chickens have retreated, hay bunkers secured. Even Margaret and Crystal looked skyward, muttering, “Not today, thunder dude.”
We wait.
August 26, 2025 at 2:07 PM
Day 240 of Summer Meadow
Hark!
Thor himself sharpens his hammer above the Devon sky.
The storm marches in whispers, promising its big finale at midnight. Chickens have retreated, hay bunkers secured. Even Margaret and Crystal looked skyward, muttering, “Not today, thunder dude.”
We wait.
Hark!
Thor himself sharpens his hammer above the Devon sky.
The storm marches in whispers, promising its big finale at midnight. Chickens have retreated, hay bunkers secured. Even Margaret and Crystal looked skyward, muttering, “Not today, thunder dude.”
We wait.
Day 240 of Summer Meadow
The storm tiptoes nearer, smugly scheduled for midnight drama. Preparations are “complete,” which is human for “probably not.” Chickens, unusually obedient, tucked in early hay forts raised, feathers fluffed. Even Margaret and Crystal muttered bedtime prayers.
The storm tiptoes nearer, smugly scheduled for midnight drama. Preparations are “complete,” which is human for “probably not.” Chickens, unusually obedient, tucked in early hay forts raised, feathers fluffed. Even Margaret and Crystal muttered bedtime prayers.
August 26, 2025 at 1:37 PM
Day 240 of Summer Meadow
The storm tiptoes nearer, smugly scheduled for midnight drama. Preparations are “complete,” which is human for “probably not.” Chickens, unusually obedient, tucked in early hay forts raised, feathers fluffed. Even Margaret and Crystal muttered bedtime prayers.
The storm tiptoes nearer, smugly scheduled for midnight drama. Preparations are “complete,” which is human for “probably not.” Chickens, unusually obedient, tucked in early hay forts raised, feathers fluffed. Even Margaret and Crystal muttered bedtime prayers.
In the whimsical world of Summer Meadow, on day 240, Tuesday morning finds us prepared and ready.
The chickens, guinea fowl, and all creatures great and small are snug, awaiting the storm's grand entrance with binoculars and a profound sense of ready-ness.
Don't Panic.
The chickens, guinea fowl, and all creatures great and small are snug, awaiting the storm's grand entrance with binoculars and a profound sense of ready-ness.
Don't Panic.
August 26, 2025 at 9:40 AM
In the whimsical world of Summer Meadow, on day 240, Tuesday morning finds us prepared and ready.
The chickens, guinea fowl, and all creatures great and small are snug, awaiting the storm's grand entrance with binoculars and a profound sense of ready-ness.
Don't Panic.
The chickens, guinea fowl, and all creatures great and small are snug, awaiting the storm's grand entrance with binoculars and a profound sense of ready-ness.
Don't Panic.