Monthly Archives: April 2015

VAPOR

Posted on April 19, 2015 by | Leave a comment

 

March 14, 2014

 

Awakened slowly,
drinking promises of rain
with people on time.

 

 

“photo_challenge/early-bird”/

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DAMP WIND

Posted on April 18, 2015 by | 5 comments

 

When the wind blows up canyon,
first light gray,
I am the old red horse,
twenty-five, bucking in place.

We never loose it, that wanting
stirred and satisfied—
to be wild again
when everything is right.

We feel his feeble effort,
hooves barely off the ground,
our whoops and cheers
howling on a damp wind.

 

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THE TROUBLE WITH SHARING

Posted on April 17, 2015 by | 4 comments

 

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Hole in the orchard filled
with leaky water troughs
of asparagus rockets

breaking free. We felled
the cherry tree the borers killed,
corded-up for winter fires.

We shared the crop,
top branches first
we couldn’t reach until

word got out and left us
pits. Damn Orioles
and their bucket mouths.

 

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HOUSE SPARROWS

Posted on April 16, 2015 by | 4 comments

 

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Since the bird feeders, the House Sparrows
have run the finches off the beam,
scattered their nest, spending mornings

rebuilding for a week. The male helps,
but would rather fluff his feathers
in the warm first light and supervise.

He packs little twigs and she dry weeds,
long streamers trailing her fluttering
balancing act, treading air before ascending.

Saying nothing, we see ourselves
in these silhouettes, satisfied
and pleased to entertain the gods.

 

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OLD MEN WHITTLING

Posted on April 15, 2015 by | 5 comments

 

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I had forgotten small minds
of old men whining,
the Sisyphus among us

whittling clever epithets,
quivers-full of poisoned-tipped
displeasures flung

at the centers of open hearts
in full bloom
I had not yet seen.

                                     for Curtis

 

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GOOD MEDICINE

Posted on April 14, 2015 by | 2 comments

 

When we gathered this earth,
found its splendid secrets
flourishing, full with flavor,

we believed we had favor
with the gods we acknowledged
everyday—good medicine.

And when we hunted, we learned
to leave our flesh, fill the tracks
before us and read the mind

that left them. It was easy then
to be outside ourselves
to love another, escape together,

go beyond the bounds
of flesh and return
with good medicine.

 

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Posted in Poems 2015

Replacement Heifers

Posted on April 13, 2015 by | 3 comments

 
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With an eye towards weaning our calves, last week’s tour of the Greasy watershed to check cattle and feed conditions was a pleasant surprise. Typically we begin weaning in mid-May when the grass turns. With less than 0.75” of rain in the last forty-five days, my expectations were minimal. But our upper country above 1,500 feet has fared substantially better than our lower foothills where only patches of green remain high on the north slopes.

Having reduced our cow numbers by 40% due to the ongoing drought, we have found a temporary equilibrium between grass and cattle without having to feed much hay last winter. But due to feed limitations, we were unable to keep any calves last season for replacement heifers. Assuming a return to more normal weather conditions, we will need to replace our older cows while also trying to add numbers to our cowherd. However many heifer calves we’re able to keep, won’t produce a calf to wean for two more years. Rebuilding a cowherd is a slow process. Certainly the three girls above will be candidates, but how many we’re able to keep remains to be seen.

 

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OTHER INTERESTED PARTIES

Posted on April 12, 2015 by | 7 comments

 

I think no more or less of you
than when you lived
alone hoarding memories,

long life collecting guns
and knives in the Berkeley hills.
Only with plastic yellow ribbon

stretched across Tanglewood
can we share a last laugh:
bomb squad extricating

your volatile black powder,
old ammunition and grenades
from the backyard bunker,

neighbors at windows, and you
gleefully grinning down upon
the commotion you’ve stirred.

Stanford, Harvard law, Bohemian
Club, without issue you enjoyed
the luxury of eccentricities

far from your mother’s dirt—
or her father’s, the Judge
in the barn with his jug.

All we really wanted
were the stories, first cousins
once removed in life and death.

 

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TRESPASSING

Posted on April 11, 2015 by | 5 comments

 
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We look both ways
at the end of the road,
the well-honed edge

of commerce and convenience,
trucks and traffic
across the bridge—

river without water.
In their own world,
some deer forget:

quick scramble of hooves,
a clatter slipping
on concrete and asphalt.

We look both ways
wanting wild cover
and shade, leave

great hearts behind
to trespass
into an urgent world.

 

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Killdeer Update

Posted on April 10, 2015 by | 7 comments

 

 

Keeping track of our cattle is never perfect, but keeping track of the Killdeer, even for a short time, requires so much assumption and speculation that it verges on fiction. Nevertheless, our Killdeer, defending the eggs in her nest, disappeared with her babies for the creek last week. Due to the drought and a creek that hasn’t run much for the past three years, we’ve had only one Killdeer nesting in our gravel driveway so far this spring.

Robbin noted that one of our pair of crows was carrying what appeared to be the white fluff of a Killdeer chick back to their nest earlier this week. We know how it goes, everyone is someone’s breakfast. But yesterday, crossing the remaining puddles in the creek, we found two chicks and an attentive, adult Killdeer in the cobbles and grass.

Getting two out of four to the creek, 200 yards and across the road, is a good percentage when one considers the gopher snake on the prowl for eggs, the crows and a variety of other predators. It’s a leap to assume this is the same Killdeer, but with no others around our driveway to the house, not as far as you might think.

 

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