I wake to dreams running
with Japhy Rider glowing old,
each awakening begins
a new act, a new setting,
new and easy conversations,
and we are grinning.
I am small in all this,
absorbing each moment
as it unfolds, and fall
into that fuzzy parallel plane
where souls gather,
the dead and alive—
where scientists and governments
cannot touch the caring core
of humanity, where Wall Street
wanes. I wonder now awake
if he remembers me
from last night’s sleep.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged Dharma Bums, DREAMS, Gary Snyder, Humanity, Japhy Rider
Outside, early summer heat stifles
the mind, bakes a hard crust
upon the brain beneath straw lids—
eyes roll and detach within flashes
of white light, falling towards delirium:
I cannot breathe or see connections,
I cannot think, I cannot write.
Small comfort that I am not alone
within this fuzzy circumstance.
Harassed by a squadron kingbirds,
a Great Blue glides and lights
upon the gravel, stands tall
to claim any open space,
grounded for battle. All supposed
sentiments have escaped to shade,
gone north to cooler climes.
Summer in the San Joaquin,
a damn hard time to write.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged Great Blue Heron, kingbirds, summer, writing
Selected to stay,
to be bred and have babies,
we must give them names.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged cattle, cows, Replacement Heifers
I was about eleven years old when the US Army Corps of Engineers began construction on Terminus Dam, named, I presume, for the end of the Visalia Electric Railroad line where a resort of sorts was established at Terminus Beach for local music and all-night dancing during the summer. There was also a nine hole sand golf course in the area of this irrigation pond, north of the river, that was accessed by a footbridge across the Kaweah during the 30s. All was erased during the 1955 Flood. The family was embroiled in a Condemnation Action with the Federal government shortly thereafter. Construction was completed in 1962.
Currently at less than 25% capacity because of the drought, it was unnerving for me as a teenager working downstream when Lake Kaweah was full.
Off the road, three geese
feel safe, wait for barley hay—
one without a mate.
Over boulders, we pick our way for months,
pressing cobbles into sand like pavement,
two trails under wheels with bales of hay
when the creek dries up. But when it rains
enough to fill the channel, we must feel
our way through loosened rocks like braille.
Seldom better or worse, no smooth progress
holds, just a spot where we can cross
the creek—a steady equilibrium stirred
for years—we begin again, our presence
beneath killdeer circling, forever crying
overhead, erased—each season fresh.
Between here and the road, the intermittent
sound of summer cars across blond pastures,
fat black cows grazing, lazing in shadows—
a gentle world where coyotes pass and pause
for a squirrel, a bobcat trains her babies,
and crows raid bird nests for their own.
Snake bit, your mother’s inside dog is gone
to meet her, yet I still leave the sticky door
ajar, listen while I dress for his awakening.
Between here and the road, we see what we want,
watch naked skeletons of oaks come alive, and
long-limbed sycamores dance in an orgiastic tangle.
We can feel these hillsides breathe, hear
the heartbeat underneath. Not since the natives
has this place told so many stories.
First thing every morning
I think of you making coffee
San Francisco strong, and pray
that a few of our wild gods
go with you on city sidewalks.
I fill the paper filter
that holds the grounds together
with one less scoop than you,
then add a half
to remember you by.
We ended a busy week at the Tulare County Cattle Drive Beef Boosters dinner last night to support the local 4H an FFA programs for kids. We bid on and brought home this one-of-a-kind hand woven wool saddle blanket designed and created by Linda Hayden, our Three Rivers cattle neighbor. She spins her wool, then collects and harvests plants from nature and boils these materials over an open fire to obtain the endless array of colors she uses to create her blankets. The water is then strained and the wool is submerged and soaked for several hours. At this time the wool is “cooked” over a slow simmering fire then left to soak for another 24-hour period. After the wool absorbs all the color it is washed several times and left to dry.
Supporting only a few non-profits, Robbin I believe that the Tulare County Cattle Drive Beef Boosters is an investment in our future, not only for the cattle business, but for all of us by offering youngsters hands-on experience with livestock, work and responsibility, early in life. If you’re willing to wait two years for a blanket of your own, it’s $750–visit the link above, or if you want to bring one home, attend next year’s Beef Boosters dinner and bid against the crowd.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Linda Hayden, saddle blanket, Tulare County Cattle Drive Beef Boosters
the second day of weaning, the steer and heifer calves will be going opposite directions next week. Steers weighing 700 pounds will go to town and then onto a feedlot before your plate. The heifers will be sorted to their own pasture until our weaning is complete, and from them we’ll select our replacement heifers to hopefully enjoy a long and productive life on the ranch.
This morning, the fourth day of weaning, we, and the Kubota with alfalfa hay, have replaced their mothers completely. Perhaps the gentlest bunch of calves we’ve ever raised, they’ve known us since they were born and have no reason to distrust us.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Paregien Ranch Calves 2015, weaning, weekly-photo-challenge
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