In her nearly ninety years,
Nora Montgomery couldn’t remember
hillsides as solid with poppies
as the golden spring of 1978
after two years drought,
cows calving in dust.
Slopes alive, fences leaked
lovers and photographers
from all over—
a glorious reward
for enduring a dry nightmare
early in my career,
the foundation
of a young man’s confidence,
the religion he lived by.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, photographs, poetry, poppies, rain, weather, wildflowers
In the darkness, I listen to a light strum
upon the roof, visualize the size
of raindrops, calculate the hours
necessary to quench the earth’s thirst
for a week or two before going back
to dream of hillsides too wet to climb,
cattle fat come May – nothing I can do,
but hope and pray for some release.
Sucked dry, we still hold on to a chance
for a verdant spring, grass bellyhigh
and sprinkled with wild colors
from all the old seeds waiting to bloom.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015
Tagged Calves, cows, Drought, Dry Creek, photographs, poetry, rain, weather, wildflowers
The wildflowers were trying to bloom before we left for Elko on January 24th, primarily the ubiquitous Fiddleneck and Shepherd’s Purse, but yesterday as Robbin and I went to the Paregien Ranch, we could add Foothill Poppies, Purple Lupine, White-veined Mallow, Popcorn Flowers, Scorpionweed among others—all 30 days earlier than normal that may indicate an early, and perhaps short, spring, especially with record breaking temperatures in the high-70s the past two days.
As we enter what appears to be our fourth drought year with only 5.47” of rain to date, it could be worse. Last year at this time we had only accumulated 1.6”, a year in which we had to feed hay from August through March with a total rainfall for the season of 7.78”. Our 9-year average, including the last three dry years, is 14.36”.
Fortunately, some rain is predicted for this evening and Saturday that may linger into Sunday. Our south slopes have been stressed for the past three years, showing mostly brown with no cover of old feed to hold moisture or offer protection for the new grasses.
Additionally, there is little snow in the Sierras to supply surface water demands from Valley farmers. Water storage in flood control and irrigation facilities is at an all-time low. Half-way through our rainy season, it’s too late for any snow the Sierras might receive to freeze, thus we have lost any time-released benefits farmers might ordinarily enjoy, leaving us more susceptible to spring floods if the Sierras get any amount of snow for the remainder of the season.
No matter how you look at it, it doesn’t look good.
Fiddleneck wilting – 2/5/2015
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, flower-friday, Greasy Creek, Paregien Ranch, photographs, rain, weather, wildflowers
Nothing sudden, poor dry hills
like thin cows show too much bone,
I look away for a spot of green
in shadows of trees, on north slopes
to weigh our hopes: how many days left
before it rains? Bankrupt with years
of debt, of dirt exposed, of dust released,
the old oaks have given-up to start over—
to become earth again, and we
make plans to brand another bunch
like Kestrels courting spring, falling
in a flutter before me yesterday:
fourth of February, seventy-seven degrees.
Nothing sudden, we plod against the obvious
knowing nothing stays the same.
Following fifty tons
through light showers
across Nevada,
big alfalfa bales
towards our dry
California home,
we focus on raindrops
streaking reality
after a week of poetry
and song, to feel
our poor possibilities
grow by the truckload—
heavy with an endless
emptiness in our bellies
beneath the straps
of seat belts
before another wreck.
We hang on.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged alfalfa hay, Drought, National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, Nevada, photographs, poetry, rain, weather
With a leisurely, late start from Elko, we encountered a few midday showers Monday, crossing Nevada’s Great Basin between Carlin and Tonopah, making for some interesting high-speed photos with the point and shoot.
Under a dark cloud outside Eureka, a blurry foreground beneath a crisp Lone Mountain on the ‘Lonliest Road in America’ (US 50).
Hay headed to dry California.
We stopped for a bowl of soup at the refurbished and reopened Mizpah in Tonopah,
then headed into to the sunset towards Bishop.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, Great Basin, National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, Nevada, photographs, rain, Tonopah, weather
I was so happy to see Ramblin’ Jack Elliott last night after the full house, Baja California show concluded that I rather rudely interrupted his conversation with a young lady to shake his hand for a quick hello. I caught up with her later to apologize, only to learn that she was a reporter for Reuters looking for a real cowboy poet.
The Poetry Gathering won’t officially begin until Thursday, and few of us are here yet, but Robbin and I come early to acclimate and set up camp in our motel room. Looking at my Giants hat, she didn’t believe me when I told her I was one.
Try as I might to break free of the urban stereotype, the ensuing interview and conversation confirmed so many misconceptions about our livestock culture that I was somewhat dismayed, even frustrated at times trying to explain that we’re not all Republicans, not all isolated from the rest of the world in a mythical West — that there is a difference between dairy and beef cattle.
The interview concluded where it should have begun, that we, just like the livestock culture of the Baja Californians, are land based, our physical and mental health dependent upon the health of the land and our cattle. We are not looking to blame the current drought in the American Southwest on Global Warming or the tsunami in Japan, nor are we looking to US politics for drought relief. As a self-reliant bunch, we try to solve problems, working with the current drought the best we can.
I probably didn’t change her mind much, but that’s what the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering is all about, offering varied perspectives to help bridge the gap between the range livestock culture and the urban majority — it’s not all in a hat.
Posted in Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, Elko Nevada, National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, politics, rain, weather
The big dogs are drilling deeper,
pumping the last of a million years
of underground water, each river
dammed into furrows to farm
the empty Laguna de Tache.
Sixty years ago, when red lights
stopped in every railroad town,
colorful cornucopias spilled
from billboards onto Highway 99
bragging fruit or vegetable capitals
of another world, and huge Big Oranges
squeezed juice every ten miles.
On the semi-arid edge of change,
we beg for rain and dream of floods
to take this Valley back in time.
* * *
Wiki: Laguna de Tache, Tulare Lake
Posted in Poems 2015
Tagged Drought, Kaweah River, Laguna de Tache, poetry, rain, San Joaquin Valley, Tulare Lake, underground water, water, weather, well drilling, wells
March 10, 2014
Riding rafts of red above
clouds of dust,
we could breathe for a moment.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, rain, red sky, signs, weather
of this dirt
we burrow deeper into our shells
waiting for a rain.
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged birds, Burrowing Owls, Drought, Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, weather, wildlife
drycrikjournal 
