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Winter didn’t just arrive; it buried us. Each day began with the same backbreaking task: digging into the deep silo pit, loosening frozen piles of grass, and heaving them up onto the truck. Three times a day, I filled that truck, and three times a day, I drove it up to the barn, feeding the cows their winter ration. By the end of the season, my body knew the weight of that shovel better than it knew rest.
The mountain looked beautiful under a blanket of snow, but beauty came at a cost. Pipes froze, buckets froze, and even our breath seemed to freeze inside our masks. We wrapped ourselves in seven layers of clothing, yet still shivered through the milking shifts. Sometimes the only warmth we felt came from the cows themselves, their breath rising in gentle clouds into the cold air.
Not everyone survived the season. One calf, Snowflake, grew weak and died suddenly. Soon after, Hana—the first calf born after our arrival—fell ill with the same sickness. My wife and I spent every free moment nursing her, cleaning her pen and changing her straw bedding when the farmer wasn’t around, checking her breathing, and coaxing her to drink. Against the odds, she pulled through. Watching her stand again was a victory that carried us through the darkest weeks.
There were moments of joy, too. On Christmas Day, we bought a case of red apples and gave one to each cow. The barn filled with the sound of crunching, and the cows’ contented faces made us laugh. The old farmer shook his head, baffled by our extravagance, but to us it was the simplest way to give back.
At the same time, we grew restless. We tried to give the animals more space, but the farmer would shake his head, dismissing it as “city kindness.” For him, the cows were a business. For us, they had become companions. We had named them all, and milking—an act so up close and personal—made us deeply aware of their individual characters. It was a difference in perspective that no words could smooth over.
Through it all, we held on to the thought of spring: warmer days, melting snow, and fields of fresh grass for the cows. After months of hard labour in the cold, that promise of renewal was enough to carry us through.
NEXT: Part 3 Spring
Useful Vocabulary and Expressions from This Story
NEXT: Part 3 Spring
Useful Vocabulary and Expressions from This Story
Idioms / Figurative expressions
•Winter didn’t just arrive; it buried us → metaphor showing how overwhelming winter felt.
•Beauty came at a cost → idiom meaning something beautiful also brought problems.
•Against the odds → phrase meaning something succeeded despite being very unlikely.
•Carried us through → phrasal verb meaning helped us survive or endure a difficult time.
•No words could smooth over → idiom meaning words could not solve or hide a problem.
Phrasal verbs & Collocations
•Digging into the deep silo pit → collocation (dig into = work hard at something physically or mentally).
•Loosening frozen blocks → collocation, often used for tight or stuck objects.
•Heaving them onto the truck → “heave onto” = lift with effort.
•Wrapped ourselves in seven layers → collocation (wrap in layers of clothing).
•Shook his head → common collocation for showing disapproval.
•Coaxing her to drink → collocation (to coax = gently persuade).
•Named them all → collocation, often used with animals.
Less common/vivid vocabulary
•Backbreaking task → very physically hard work.
•Ration → fixed amount of food given regularly.
•Gentle clouds (of breath) → descriptive phrasing.
•Contented faces → adjective collocation (calm, satisfied).
•Extravagance → wasteful or overly generous action.
•City kindness → ironic phrasing (farmer’s view of their actions as naïve).
•Perspective → viewpoint, way of seeing things.
•Promise of renewal → poetic collocation, hope of a fresh start.
•*Silo → a deep pit used to store summer grass for winter.
*NOTE: Missile Silo → an underground chamber to store missiles (see also the Apple+ TV series ‘Silo’
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