Unfolding into space, hills
from peaks to plains unending
time beyond and past
the horizons of this moment
resting among the eroded
where I am near-nothing,
these specks of rock
spread out before me
like petals opening—
my nakedness
laid bare
as part of the landscape.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015
Tagged Elegant Clarkia, Greasy Creek, photographs, poetry, Serenity, weekly-photo-challenge, wildflowers
Sierra Tidy Tips, Greasy Creek, 4.6.11
Leaking into a dry winter,
spring’s wild nectar drips
with sweet abundance.
© 2013 Earl McKee Photo
Old men in the branding pen
hope for grace
to find the feel of singing loop
slide between their fingers—
of hoof dance timed and shaped
to catch two feet, slack to dally horn
come tight, as if it were nothing
out of the ordinary.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged age, branding, Calves, feel, feeling, Greasy Creek, Old men, photographs, poetry
‘Traveling the same track
makes ruts when it rains,’
I tell myself, shoveling,
bringing future runoff back
to gutters and culverts
as if I might make a difference.
They hear me in their home
and come to the chainsaw’s whine
limbing a fallen tree on the fence—
old wire that can be spliced
and pulled up into place
only they will see, gathered
in rock piles above me
like Great Aunts, lifting
wet noses to a light breeze.
I left the house with salt
to see the cattle, check
the rain gauge, photograph
the grass ‘lest my memory slips
again and spins a yearning
into some other poem
for Winter Solstice 2014.
We are family, these cows
and calves, this wild about me
as I stack brush for quail
before I leave with Live Oak
limbs—come home with wood.
From dull light into the dark, we
will roast a rib between us warm
‘round our never-ending fire.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014, Ranch Journal
Tagged Calves, cows, Drought, family, Fire, Greasy Creek, photographs, poetry, rain, Spanish Flats, water, weather, wildlife
Sulphur – December 11, 2014
No father or mother left to leave
a Christmas gift under the tree—
even the child in us understands.
An ever-ready substitute, the old
Hereford bull plods along the fence
looking past the asphalt, gutturally
conversing with the neighbor’s
registered Angus mothers
while his younger brethren work
the steep brush and rock,
gather families in the wild
from last year’s seed.
Kept another year, just in case
someone gets hurt, we become
the extras for the gods—
walk the sidelines
lending words to the old songs
‘lest the world forgets
the melodies of Christmas
when it rains, or snows low
leaving only grass under trees.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014, Ranch Journal
Tagged Blue Oak, bulls, Calves, Christmas, cows, grass, Greasy Creek, old songs, photographs, poetry, rain, snow, Sulphur Peak, weather, writing
We waited through dry and dusty years
and prayed the only way we knew—
like tithing, throwing hard-bought hay
to the gods on the ground everyday.
Our muttered mantra clunked along
like an old machine, inhaling pauses,
exhaling groans until it came to turn
the earth around with a covering
of iridescent green, teasing the dead
and dying oak trees—like us or like
the cows we raised and had to sell—
with rain and one more promise.
New life lands on the open beam
that holds the roof and sings
in the sudden rain—a black and gold
Oriole on the edge of its Southwest
range—a happy song delivered quickly.
A sign in this downpour, an omen
I am to remember when season’s over
and the grass turns blond and brittle—or
just a promise of weather never normal.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014, Ranch Journal
Tagged Blue Oak, cows, Drought, feeding, Greasy Creek, Hay, Live Oak, photographs, poetry, rain, water, weather, wildlife
I made a quick tour of Greasy yesterday before the current rain to check our cattle and feed conditions and to cut a Kubota-load of Manzanita. The lighting beneath the cloud cover and view of Sawtooth (elevation 12,343′), above Mineral King Valley in Sequoia National Park, from below Sulphur Peak was eerie and intriguing, enhanced by the 30x telephoto of my point and shoot. Only a light dusting of snow remains from our last storm, but the forecast is for three feet on the Great Western Divide.
Posted in Photographs
Tagged birds, Greasy Creek, photographs, Thanksgiving, wild turkeys, wildlife
Old black horse, tennis shoes.
I was ten, give or take a year or two,
driving cows and calves up Greasy
well-before they built the dam.
Dad hollering at the bunch splitting,
at me, at God, at everything.
You asked me then when we were done,
if I wanted to be a cowboy?
Tear streaks dried like a second skin,
I cried, “No!” and meant it—
horseback, just below Spoon Rock.
Amid the green, we have become old men,
of all the things we could have been,
going slow, just below Spoon Rock.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged "Hay for the Horses", Gary Snyder, Greasy Creek, photographs, poetry, Spoon Rock, weekly-photo-challenge
It’s a waiting game now for our bare hills to take on a shade of green as the first cotyledons of our grass seed break the crust left after Friday and Saturday’s remarkable rain. It’s not typical to begin our rainy season with 1.76” on Dry Creek, or 2.62” in Greasy Creek. Usually, we hope to get a half-inch to start the grass, but more often than not fail after our first storm event.
Everybody’s hungry and there’s really not much to eat, actually less immediately after a rain, other than what we are feeding our cows. With some calves two months old and growing, demanding more from their mothers, it’s starting to show on the cows, less fleshy now than a month ago. We’ve been increasing the amount we’re feeding right along trying to keep everyone in shape, hoping that when the grass comes that the calves will keep right on growing, and that our cows will be in good enough shape to cycle and breed back when we put the bulls out next month.
All very subjective. Working around slick roads elsewhere, we fed the girls above a day early yesterday as we drug our road up into Greasy Creek to fill in some of the gullies and ruts accumulated after the past two years of not enough moisture to effectively smooth them out. And good that we brought a little extra hay, as the calves were as glad to see us as the cows.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged Calves, cows, Drought, feeding, Greasy Creek, photographs, rain, weather
drycrikjournal 