Monthly Archives: May 2015

MARIPOSA LILY Calochortus argillosus x 2

Posted on May 15, 2015 by | 2 comments

 

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Wet years in the clay
lilies unfurling, drawing
heaven’s attention.

 

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ORGANIC

Posted on May 14, 2015 by | 1 comment

 

April in May
busy with cattle,
calves and auction yards—

visiting with solid souls
beneath faces worn outdoors
that follow the stuttering

monotone of auctioneers,
all-day waiting
for bulls too late to brand

in March to sell,
the garden blooms
without me:

peppers and squash,
tendrils of cucumbers
reach for support,

onions bow,
eggplants open arms
as the tomatoes wait

for heat to color
hard green globes.
Eight hundred pounds

without the red iron,
rope or vaccinations—
growing without me.

 

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THE GIRLS

Posted on May 13, 2015 by | 5 comments

 

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It’s all about the girls
on this ranch, mothers
and grand, grandmothers
grazing a life away.

We’ve found our pace
despite the drought
trusting one another’s
competence and will.

Gentle strumming
in the background,
dark to light
and black again,

no day the same,
each moment full
of contrasting details,
lyrics raining down.

 

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Shipping Wagyu X

Posted on May 12, 2015 by | 13 comments

 

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Yesterday morning, we shipped our Wagyu X calves from our first-calf heifers to Snake River Farms in American Falls, Idaho where they will be fed
until offered as American Kobe Beef. We began our program with Snake River Farms several years ago looking for smaller calves for our first-calf heifers while trying to avoid the genetic hangover of low birth weight Angus bulls. We rent the Wagyu bulls from Snake River Farms and contract to sell all our calves to them for a ten cent/lb. premium over market price.

Born small, our Wagyu X calves ship about 100/lbs. lighter than our English calves. This year, the steer calves averaged 568 lbs., our heaviest Wagyu X steer calves to date. In the photo above, Robbin, Clarence and the girls are parting cows from calves to be weighed before loading them on the truck.

 

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DREAMS IN DROUGHT

Posted on May 11, 2015 by | 6 comments

 

Good bug year:
Daddy Longlegs
on a wet paint wall,
Crane Fly waiting
for me to dry
and hang my towel
back, herds of Earwigs
hiding between the leaves
of artichokes, and bitter
gnats drowning
in my uncovered wine.
Most don’t bite

but feed the Phoebes
and one another
in the springtime,
summer, fall.
Hatch upon hatch,
I dream of casting
to eddies, riding riffles,
the splash and set
of hook, playing
and landing trout
if there were
any rivers running.

 

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SANITARY ENGINEERS

Posted on May 10, 2015 by | 7 comments

 

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Gathering deacons
waiting between casualties
dream of misfortune.

 

 

WPC(2)–“Forces of Nature”

 

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SUBJECTS

Posted on May 9, 2015 by | 6 comments

 

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We are, and always have been, subjects
of the weather, of the blazing sun
and phasing moon, the swirling winds
and tides—subjects, lackeys to the Queen’s
whims and oversights—all men’s progress
subject to a careless sleeve. We think
we know her moods, read the signs,
taste change, but wait for instruction.

We are among the insects of the grasses,
our labors short-lived and forgotten
on this planet, with our real selves
but a mumble in the background.
We must learn to sing, find a voice
to harmonize with every changing
circumstance—a steady rhythm
we can dance to without stumbling.

No one of us can save the world
its pain, far greater than we care
to imagine, but before us each
new day, a place to put our hearts
and hands to work—opportunities
to improve the space in which we live—
a contagious caring running beneath
the outrageous currents we can’t control.

 

 

WPC(1)–“Forces of Nature”

 

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GRAVITY

Posted on May 8, 2015 by | 15 comments

 

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                             I am growing downward,
                             smaller, one among the grasses.
                                  – Wendell Berry (“Thirty More Years”)

I knew when I was young
and proud, I had found my place
on this ground—my limbs

could support me for as long
as they were sound—living
where the work was hard.

I was not afraid of time
and grinned at gravity,
rode the edges of ridges down

behind cattle, shaping me
to fit the landscape
eventually or die.

I scratch among the grasses now,
learn the language of birds
and flowers, the expression

of horses and families of cattle—
all the tattered glories of youth
bent closer to what counts.

 

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SOMEONE’S MOTHER

Posted on May 8, 2015 by | 2 comments

 

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Pot with bullet holes
blooming but one day in May
for someone’s mother.

 

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On The Run

Posted on May 7, 2015 by | 6 comments

 

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Begging your indulgence for yet another photograph of the Roadrunners, an adult and juvenile, hanging around the cactus nest where one fledging remained yesterday afternoon as I came in the driveway.

We started in the dark to gather and preg-check our third-calf cows, make the sort of who stays where and who goes to town, keeping in mind our scarce stockwater resources. We shipped one bunch of calves Tuesday that sold well yesterday—we’ve been busy. Too busy to sit by the nest for photographs, so whatever shows up here is only by chance, nothing scientific about it.

We know the babies fledge and grow rapidly, and are as mobile as the adults when they leave the nest. Having an adult and juvenile together in a photo, it’s obvious the juvenile is smaller with a shorter tail. Notice also the differences in the eye of each. In a previous post, I assumed four babies in the nest, but revisiting the photo after comments, one of the eyes is that of an adult judging by its tail and the eye of this adult—so only three.

Yesterday evening one of our crow pair, who have been harassing and raiding the bird nests in the yard for several weeks, was at the cactus patch where the one fledgling remained. As the crow left with apparently nothing, an adult and juvenile went to the nest as if to rescue and encourage the last one to leave.

If there’s nothing in the nest this morning, I’ll have to count young beaks to see if it survived, an impossible task unless the three start running together.

 

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