Nap-time nurseries beneath the sycamores, babysitting cows relieve one another to eat and drink.
Those without calves recline with bellies bulging, thrust painfully skyward like over-inflated black beach balls—
all await the green soft-stemmed alfalfa— await new life, await a rain
to settle dust underfoot as they graze short-cropped dry feed into the dirt
awaiting new life— seed awaiting rain.
The long range forecast confirms our superstitions, but like a no-hitter we dare not mention yet—
until the dark hole in the barn grows larger, until the canyon fills with echoing complaints, the agonizing song of cows begging, calf solos in the distance.
Robbin reminds me that my last photo of the decapitated heron was not appropriate in these grizzly times of increasing Covid deaths and chaotic politics. I thought it fit the poem, but…
Four days ago, I came upon two heifers that had just calved in a canyon well-apart from the bunch, one heifer with twins and a big coyote lurking within 50 feet, watching the process. Any cow with new twins is especially vulnerable, ultimately unable to protect them both. Fortunately, she had the other heifer nearby. I scattered a little hay. Robbin and I checked on them that evening and all was well.
More often than not, a cow will abandon the weaker calf to take care of the other. I returned first thing Tuesday morning to see two cows and two calves from a distance, but as I approached them, I saw that the heifer with twins was gone, replaced by another heifer with an older calf for protection, I assume. I scattered more hay and checked all around to find no other cattle.
Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning I checked all the first-calf heifers in the bunch, but the cow with twins was not among them. We fed on Thursday, and still the heifer with twins was missing. I assumed she left the area with her two Wagyu X calves, less than a day old, during the night, because of the coyote.
This morning I went looking and finally found her and both calves secreted in the rocks on a steep slope, fine and healthy. It occurs to me that she also needed time to bond with the twins that might have been lost and confused in the nursery of over 20 calves, had she returned to the security of the other mothers. After fifty years living with cows, I continue to be amazed and admire the intelligence of cattle, especially cows.
On my way to town afterwards, I heard Elizabeth Cook on Sirius suggest that we look away from the news and focus locally instead. How right she is! We’ll see how long it takes the heifer with twins to come off the hill, hopefully with both.
The mysteries, puzzled
pieces scattered, most missing
and decomposed by the moment
linger, shelved in the back room
for future reference
awaiting adhesive connections
that seldom take shape.
The ranch and its inhabitants,
the wild and tame, the unknowing
hands of man and the malicious,
the well-meaning touch
that turns terribly tragic--all
scattered, stacked one upon the other,
clues that only true detectives
note in the dusty swirl of ambiguity
left to settle with experience--
an illusive sense beyond the tangible
that this old ground evokes.
* * * *
Inspired by an article in the latest issue of Will Hearst's
Alta Magazine:
https://altaonline.com/private-investigators-san-francisco-phil-bronstein/
Age & Source Verification: Cow 6151, September 14, 2020
The Source & Age Verification program is a USDA approved, non-biased, third-party audit that verifies the source and age of your calves. The source verification will enable you to meet COOL requirements, the age verification will make your cattle eligible for export to countries with age requirements on imported beef products.
Age & Source Verification: Cow 3005, September 8, 2020
The Source & Age Verification program is a USDA approved, non-biased, third-party audit that verifies the source and age of your calves. The source verification will enable you to meet COOL requirements, the age verification will make your cattle eligible for export to countries with age requirements on imported beef products.
The sun cleared the smoke at 8:00 a.m., ash as big as silver dollars everywhere with visibility less than 1/2 mile on Dry Creek. You can taste the wood smoke, but nothing compared to those like Robbin’s brother and my friend Peter Clarke, with evacuation warnings, frantically clearing brush and watering down roofs in the Oakhurst/Coarsegold areas of Madera County less than 100 miles away. Please be safe.
drycrikjournal 