The cows across the road have heard us feeding, the rattle of the diesel idling in gear as we flake hay to the first-calf heifers. It’s a good sign that they’ve worked their way up the mountain, hustling a little dry fuzz to sustain them instead of waiting by the gate for us to feed them next. Since the middle of August, they know the routine.
Another good sign is the appearance of Bald Eagles, mostly immature, in the past couple of weeks. Slim pickin’s, we came upon four of them feeding on a coyote—and almost no one eats coyote. As there’s not much water pooled anywhere, one assumes the Bald Eagles may be preceding a storm, but now harassing our native ducks, the survivors forced to retreat to the cattails every morning until northern ducks begin migrating south.
We’re looking for change and almost any sign will do.
drycrikjournal 