Tag Archives: Drought

Weaning Steers

Posted on May 13, 2023 by John | Leave a comment

I think we’ve finally caught up and close to being on time with our ranch work since the last Atmospheric River at the end of March. We got across the creek towards the end of April when flow was down to 90 cfs to see our cows while trying to get our fences up to hold them when we gathered and weaned. Since the ARs, Dry Creek is spider-webbed with streams of sand in new high-water channels requiring some leveling with the skid steer to replace fencing and to approach the creek. Meanwhile on this side of the road and creek, we’ve had a crew building fence to better accommodate the acreage changes since Robbin and I have scaled down our activities.

But on time, our first bunch of calves will be weaned and ready for Visalia Livestock Market’s “Off the Grass Sale” on Wednesday, May 17th. They are 7-weight Vintage-sired steers. The market has been strong, though slightly weaker lately. With our cow numbers down due to acreage changes and past years of drought, we will need whatever extra money the market will offer us.

After seven days a week for nearly two months, it’s a relief to feel caught up.

THEY COME TO ME (aka “WILD OATS”)

Posted on April 16, 2023 by John | 8 comments

Top: Jim Wells, Leroy Whitney, Scott Erickson. Middle: Jack Erickson, Kyle Loveall, Gary Davis, Jr., Forrest Homer, Mehrten Homer, E. J. Britten, Earl McKee, Jr. Bottom: Clarence Holdbrooks, John Dofflemyer, Craig Thorn III.

Ever so gentle, these waves of wild oats—

easy undulations into the wide swath

of bright-yellow White Mustard

in the disturbed ground

where we fed bulls

drought after drought.

If ever I could reinvent myself

as easily with storm after storm,

shake the slow walk and run

with breath aplenty, mind sharp.

Hazy days of snapshots flashing

uninvited or young among old men

now gone in the photograph

of the branding crew Rochelle took

when Craig was still alive

hanging on the bathroom wall

with south slopes of pure gold,

wet spring after the Drought of 1977.

Ever so gentle, these waves of memory,

stories only searching names,

ever so gentle, they come to me.

8 Comments

Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, poetry, Ranch Journal

Tagged age, branding crew, Drought, Drought of '77, flashbacks, Holland Corrals, memories, photographs, photography, poetry, rain

WINTER PASSION

Posted on March 30, 2023 by John | 4 comments

No spring chicken, she’s let herself go

wild after a decade of waterless summers

as if saving up the emptiness to fill at once—

every wrinkle in these hills oozing rivulets

into foaming cappuccino creeks cresting

towards runaway rivers spilling, flooding

valley towns and farm ground with lakes

and bogs—all the years of prayers answered

with much more passion than we wanted.

4 Comments

Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, poetry, Ranch Journal

Tagged Drought, flood, Mother Nature, photography, poetry, PRAYERS, rain, weather

Dry Creek: March 10, 2023 Video

Posted on March 10, 2023 by John | 1 comment

1:00 p.m. @ our driveway

1 Comment

Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal, Video

Tagged Atmospheric River, Drought, Dry Creek, flood water, photography, rain, weather

MOTHER NATURE 101

Posted on March 1, 2023 by John | 4 comments

Thrum upon the roof,

the creek stretches loudly now,

rain streams day and night

from heaven’s dark skies—

a decade of dreams and prayers

descend upon us.

Our totems come and go to rest

before our eyes, eagles and herons

inspect our souls without asking,

families of quail titter at our feet,

antlers tilt to consider our hunger

in places we mark in our memories.

She doesn’t care, has no compassion

for our self-indulgence, shapes her track

of least resistance embracing landscapes,

rearranging the gravity of facts

we must endure when she leaves us

with fresh metaphors into the future.

4 Comments

Posted in Haiku 2023, Photographs, POEMS 2023, Ranch Journal

Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, haiku, metaphors, Mother Nature, photography, poetry, rain, snow, weather

SULPHUR PEAK 3,448′

Posted on February 26, 2023 by John | 9 comments

Your robe’s frozen sleeve

reaches the creek once again,

my unending friend,

you carry both storm

and heaven on your shoulders

when I reflect up—

face unwavering

beneath sun and starlit night

always in the morning.

______________________________________

It’s been interesting weather, now half-way through our rainy season, over 18 inches of rain after a decade of drought. Already whispers from the loudest drought complainers for relief as these hills leak crystal rivulets again.

We lost a month in time in January to the Atmospheric River during branding season, and now with nearly 3 inches in the past 3 days and 3 inches more forecast for the next three, it will be at least a week before we can get to our upper country to brand the last bunch, putting us close to the middle of March. These calves will be big, a handful.

The Paregien Ranch ranges from 2,000 to 2,600 with its own light blanket of snow now, time-released moisture soaking into the clay and granite ground that leaks down the smooth rock waterfalls of Ridenhour Canyon, adding to Dry Creek that peaked at 684 cfs last night, that probably washed out some of our watergaps replaced after January’s peak flow over 3,500 cfs.

Job security, but patience until we can get there—you can’t fight Mother Nature, just try to adapt and face the consequences—fully enjoy her luxuriant and persistent presence after so much needed moisture.

9 Comments

Posted in Haiku 2023, Photographs, POEMS 2023, Ranch Journal

Tagged branding, Drought, Dry Creek, grass, green, haiku, Mother Nature, Paregien, patience, photography, poetry, rain, snow, Sulphur Peak, weather

COMING ALIVE

Posted on February 8, 2023 by John | 8 comments

After ten dry years, the drought-killed,

dead-standing oaks have shed their limbs

in piles, like clothes at their feet—some

centuries claiming space, offering summer

shade to cows, acorns to a host of hungry

mouths, hidden homes to hawks and lesser

feathered flocks—and have begun to tip

over as the rain-soaked earth lets go

of their decomposing roots to rest

on fences or across the dirt tracks

between us and our children grazing

the ridgetops: like emerald thighs, toes

reaching for the flats along the creek.

Despite the disassembled skeletons

of a generation passing that litters

and melts into the ground, lush canyon

and slope come alive to welcome and beckon

to embrace me for the first time

in a decade—and I overwhelmed, submissive

having spent my penance on unknown sins

I will confess just to prolong this moment.

8 Comments

Posted in Photographs, POEMS 2023, poetry, Ranch Journal

Tagged anthropomorphism, Drought, Dry Creek, guilt, joy, penance, photography, poetry, rain, weather

EAST BEQUETTE BRANDING 2023

Posted on February 3, 2023 by John | 6 comments

As great (for us) as the three-week Atmospheric River was, it put everyone’s branding schedules behind, most roads too wet to get to our cattle. Normally, we’d be at Elko this time of year, but with travel and time away from business, we needed to stay at home before our calves got too big to handle easily.

When I look around our community’s branding pens I realize now that most of the old timers are gone, that we have taken their places going ‘old-people slow’, and we prefer it. Fortunately we have some young muscle to work the ground.

Robbin and I have scaled our operation down, in part due to our heavy culling to adapt to consecutive years of drought and also by selling half of our cows to my son Bob. Branding pasture by pasture, our bunches are now small enough to get by with three ropers, one calf stretched at a time. Our relaxed pace has become even more conducive for old friends to visit while we get the work done. These photos from our second branding of the season, it’s been great!

We head to Tony Rabb’s next week to brand after he assesses the rain forecast for this weekend.