Monthly Archives: October 2016

Nameless

 

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I found a little patch of these interesting wildflowers on a well-traveled, sandy bank of Dry Creek in mid-April 2016. At first I thought they were Pygmy Poppies, but they may not be poppies at all.

 

Flower Friday

 

THE WORK

 

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                                        I realize that in terms of body and spirit,
                                        body grows sick while spirit’s immune,

                                                  – Po Chü-i (“Climbing Mountains in Dream”)

Like a wall, hooks in hand,
I’ve scaled bales of hay stacked
too far off the ground to fall

for nearly fifty winters, boot toes
feeling for a crack and hang
while synapse talks to flesh—

a longer conversation now
for this ascension. I can fly
in my dreams, scramble

like a squirrel up a tree.
Awake: my spirit intact, in touch
with heart and mind’s belief

in these old knees they will escape
after the truck is loaded, cattle
fed—when the work is done.

 

Hilltop

 

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Wordless Wednesday

 

TO LIVE FOR

 

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Late spring rains last into October,
empty-headed wild oats bow
to a southwest wind suggesting change

from broiling days—maybe rain.
Snakes crawl out from under shade,
backs to the sun, warm their bellies

in fine trail dust. Blue Oaks shed
large dark acorns glinting
in dry leaves like burnished gems

and we are rich, breathe deep relief
as fresh calves find steady legs
to run without direction, learn to stop.

We gladly give all up to chance
and certain change believing
this is the time we live for.

 

Hereford Show Calf

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It was chilly this morning when Robbin and I left to look at the calves on the Paregien Ranch, going up Ridenhour Canyon along the way. Though we employ a few select Hereford bulls for heterosis that have added frame, durability and a calmer disposition to our cowherd, we typically don’t have too many straight Hereford calves. At 30 days old, we caught this bull calf posing in the canyon’s early light as if he was aspiring to become an FFA/4H show calf.

Since we posted a photograph with his mother at five days old, I thought it appropriate to include a photo of his father, Ruger 119 from Mrnak Herefords West, ready to go to work for his fifth year on this ranch.

 

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POGUE CANYON

 

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Half a mountain slipped away
to move the river south, left
alluvium of clay and granite rock—

a good spring in a steep draw
collecting stories at a pause
with brittle bones and rattlesnakes

for spice—half a century saved
to hunt and wander from the flats,
to ride to gather heifers with my father,

all the alliterative murmurs
that damned me and God
when the wind is almost right.

Half a mountain slipped away
to gather by myself, holding
highlights of the boy I used to be.

 

 

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: ‘Nostalgia’