THELMA AND LOUISE

 

We could blame last spring’s atmospheric rivers, double our average rainfall for the season that kept us from branding our calves on the Paregien Ranch. Our heifer calves were exposed to our slick bull calves until we weaned in May, possibly bred that would miss our calving target date of October.  A February calf instead would jeopardize the heifer and eliminate her from our replacement bunch.

When we vaccinated the heifers for clostridial, respiratory and Brucellosis diseases in June, we also injected them with Lutalyse to abort any short-term fetuses.  Lutalyse is commonly used to synchronize heat cycles, especially when groups of cattle are to be artificially inseminated.  

We’ve had an abundance of strong feed this summer, helping to keep our heifers in shape and cycling when we turn our low-birth weight bulls out in the middle of December.  And as expected, they have been cycling, bulling, practicing all at once—a bovine orgy, a virtual humpfest. 

Unfortunately, one heifer was crippled in the raucous activity, unable to put any weight on her right hind leg.  We hauled water and hay to her for three days before walking her into the pen by the house.  Shortly thereafter, she (Thelma) attracted a friend (Louise) who spent days and nights for week with her on the other side of the fence while the rest of the heifers were off grazing.

After two weeks, Thelma is much better now, and taking full strides.  Louise was back again last evening to check on her friend.  The bond is obvious.  They may be twins, as we had several sets, but more than likely they were just raised together.  Whether or not Thelma recovers well enough to make the replacement bunch remains to be seen.  But either way, blame it on climate change and too much rain.

BETTER

 

 

Black morning’s fresh

downcanyon breath

primes old flesh

to ride first light

 

as it breaks the ridge

like yesterday’s charge

easy and alive in my mind.

All the good horses gone,

 

I’m ready for a stranger

that can walk out,

hold a cow and wink

through loose tethers—

 

actually believing

it could be hours away.

Only this time

we’ll do it better.

 

 

WAITING ON HILARY

 

                         … (I) don’t think hurricanes

                        like to follow predicted paths.

                                    –Brian Grant

 

The prognosticators have claimed

the climate spotlight—used science

to explain why we read poetry

 

when our dehydrated atmosphere

rains rivers and spawns hurricanes

while the earth is spinning faster than it should—

 

its fractious friction warming waters

to forge the passion of whales and otters

to object and retaliate.

 

Watching the weather map of Baja California,

new science is driving out a percentage

of the old that we believed was true.

 

BIRDHOUSE

 

I have cut myself away

from the entangled coils

of ship and state

 

drawn more to songs

among the cactus cuckoos

at first light of dawn—

 

tossed across the pasture

deep-throated news

I can depend on

 

while a lone quail hollers

to awaken coveys

like children for school.

 

But I still don’t trust

the cry-baby whines

of our arrogant Ring Neck’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arson

It sounds like MASH as helicopters fly over the house, back and forth to Lake Kaweah, to address 8 fires set this a.m. between 6:30 and 6:45.  All but a couple of fires in rough terrain are contained.  Three weeks ago we had 4 sets.  Every year we blade about 3 miles of firebreak between us and the road with our skid steers. Additionally fixed wing aircraft and a DC 10 jet, 2 dozers, and about 50 engines and water tenders are on the job as I write.

The spring rains brought good feed and fuel for fire that has attracted our society’s deranged, whether gang initiations or other odd and complex maladies.  Needless to say, we’ll keep our eyes peeled.

LOOKING BACK

 

April calves load easy here

for unknown destinations

looking back to say goodbye

 

to someone lost

in the muddled moment’s

brain fog.

 

Old between brothers,

we remember stories

the other’s forgot—

 

a thrill on spry legs

to dance through time

as if young all over again.

 

 

PERSEVERANCE

 

Called too soon, persistence rooted

where peaceful dreams beneath their leaves

spilled downhill at dawn—a slow awakening

 

like death in reverse, never thinking

of other ways to pass the time. Weathered

skeletons of young Blue Oaks cling

 

to where their acorns fell to rest

before the wet and stormy springs

kept a chance of an idyllic life alive.

 

Truth is: no right or wrong of it—

no philosophy to make fit

what we’ll not need to understand.

 

CLASS OF 2023

 

Black backs

through summer light

across the road beside the creek

 

grazing green

upon a highwater sand bank

deposited by atmospheric rivers.

 

Black backs

of virgin children, our future

breathes in 105 heat.

 

 

GETTING SHORTER

 

I don’t recall Dry Creek ever flowing into August, as springs continue to feed this morning’s 9 cfs (cubic feet/second).  March’s atmospheric river estimated 8,000 cfs, that scoured the channel and undermined the gauging station, left few places to cross the resultant boulder fields and cutbanks. Only now, as our cattle work winds down, do we have time to address some of the impacts of last spring’s rains.

Both for vehicles and cattle, I had to move our crossing downstream.  Moving the big rocks was rough work for the skid steer, but I had all the materials I needed in the high water drifts of sand and gravel to smooth the crossing this morning—less than a three hour job.  On the way to the corrals, hoof action of our replacement heifers will smooth it a little more.

We’re looking forward to September when the cows begin to calve, another month of a hundred degree weather that often extends into October, but the hot summer days are getting shorter.

IN THE COMPANY OF COWS

 

It’s a dirty trick

not to bring ‘hello hay’

by flake or bale,

 

to show empty-handed

with a cluttered mind

from another world.

 

If I had the time

I’d stay the day among them,

forget myself

 

and lie down and learn

to chew my cud

without thinking.