Author Archives: John

On The Run

 

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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.

 

HUNGRY AND LONELY

 

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No one to visit me
but this familiar stranger
with nothing to eat.

 

ROADRUNNER NEST

 

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No reason to leave
the comfort of Prickly Pear
to make our fortunes.

 

FROM TENNESSEE

 

Granddad hired him
right off the train:
barefoot kid in bibs
looking for work.

Ike Clark roadsided
a thousand field lugs
of navel oranges a day,
sled on Christmas mud
with two mules
who knew their business.

I share the story
at a Garden Party in Exeter—
street shut down
for dinner and auction
to raise money
for murals of its history—

while seeing bins, trucks
and forklifts in the field
and men to drive them—
all that capital,
energy and exhaust,

only half-believing
my father’s words
that rush from my mouth.

But waiting for the bus,
I can see the 1950s
Chevrolet pickup loaded
with leafy greens
from the alley
behind the Safeway
to feed a barnyard menagerie
that roamed the orchard
and his open house.
Somewhere out there,
the bathtub
my grandmother gave him
still making whiskey.

                                        for Dick & Pat

 

Weaning

 

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We began weaning our first bunch of calves last week, three weeks earlier than normal, due to the lack of rain in March and April. From second-calf heifers sired by Vintage Angus bills, all of these calves are headed to Visalia Livestock Market on Tuesday. The whole bunch averages 600 lbs.

Though lighter than normal, there are some heifers we would have liked to keep for replacements, but our continuing drought conditions and uncertain feed and water resources make that option impractical. Whether Climate Change or other weather phenomenon, we have come to consider our circumstances to be the new normal for Sierra Nevada foothill ranches in California where cow numbers have been reduced by 40%.

After three years of drought, our springs which are dependent on the Sierra snowpack, and our stockwater ponds which are dependent on rain, are severely impacted, some dry already before summer’s begun. Each operation continues to adapt to diminishing resources as we try to hold our cow herds intact, having already culled deeply in 2013 and 2014.

As we head into our fourth year of drought, we’ve had to change our perspective, hoping to offset our smaller numbers with a good cattle market.

 

IN PLACE

 

I have forgotten
lots of things,
left them on the job,

or like tools
in the weeds
by mistake.

If any good
comes from drought,
it’s finding things

and remembering
how and who
we’ve been

without one another—
sweet reunion with
my pipe wrench friend.

 

Flower Friday: Clarkia unguiculata

 

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Roadrunners Revisited

 

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Coming home mid-day yesterday, I counted three, the camera counted four. (Enlarge)

 

CLICHÉS

 

The clichés rained
when I was young
like hollow outlines

I was destined to fill
with real details—
sayings tested with

practice dodging
bullets with agility
and dumb luck

to get old enough
to speak at funerals
of a few good friends

who rode with me,
or saw it all
from a distance:

no straight track
ricocheting minefields
heavily invested

in the senses. But
no longer hackneyed
hints for youth,

they become fresh,
reborn with answers
at our fingertips.

 

Roadrunner Babies

 

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We found the Roadrunners’ nest on March 29th and have known the eggs had hatched for a couple of weeks, but the chicks have been too small to photograph until now. In the cactus along the driveway, I caught the pair off the nest this morning.