Though not officially fall, the angle of the sun as it slips southward intensifies our fiery colors, especially early in the morning. Perpendicular to the rising sun, I wanted to capture the surreal yellow of our old feed beneath the Blue Oaks, yet the color of the same grass from other angles wasn’t nearly as intense to the eye. I’m sure there is a word for this phenomenon as we approach the autumnal equinox.
The Red Tails lift and glide above me,
circling our gather within oak trees, chemise
and fractured granite that hasn’t moved
for centuries on this mountain. One of few
humans they know, I have wished
upon their wings and eye, like a falconer,
to inform, to lead me to what I can’t see
grazing peacefully. Someday, maybe—
or resort to drones to do my bidding,
watch the calving, check feed and water,
be on patrol for coyotes and bears,
instead of me. But who would we be,
streaming sci-fi cowboy poetry? Who
would ever know enough to welcome us
into this other world, their home?
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged birds, cows, coyote, drones, Greasy Creek, photographs, poetry, Red Tail, wildlife
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged corrals, Gooseneck, Greasy Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, Sulphur Ridge, weekly-photo-challenge
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Drought, Greasy Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, rain, water, weather, weekly-photo-challenge
I sing—to what listens—again.
– Wendell Berry (“To What Listens”)
I cannot match the Canyon Wren’s sheer cascade
of octaves through brittle Manzanita, spilling over
granite boulders, each note searching for a home
or the strike, light and crack of a cold summer
thunderstorm in tall pines and damp cedar duff
beyond the fire—middle-of-nowhere—beyond
narrow roads and ‘lectric lights, the burnt scent
of moments mixed off to join the world in a gust.
I yearn for the source, map each in my mind
and like calling cattle to me: sing, awaken
canyons with old vocal chords turned free
and loose, a crackly a cappella of my own.
And they come out of chemise, off mountains
of oak trees, to the familiar, like good friends.
I sing—to what listens—again.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged calling cattle, cows, Greasy Creek, photographs, poetry, sing, Spanish Flat, Wendell Berry
An easy balance of wills
at work, a dance
on uneven landscapes.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Clarence Holdbrooks, Greasy Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, Trigger, Yellow Roan of Texas
I went back up into Greasy yesterday to check the water situation in Section 17 and Sulphur, pastures we felt less critical when Robbin and I went up earlier in the week. We have left them open to one another to make what water we have available to the cattle from both.
I followed my neighbor Caleb Pennebaker up the hill, hauling water to his cattle. Each ranch has its unique attributes and deficiencies, and what works for one ranch doesn’t necessarily work for others. Furthermore, each cattleman develops his own unique perspective, and more often than not, shaped by the ranch he operates. Caleb’s cattle are not in dire straights, though his water is drying back, but he wants to stay ahead of real trouble and deal with the lack of water on his terms by augmenting his cattle early.
In Section 17, the shaded pool of water in Greasy Creek is holding remarkably well, water currently running at 1-2 gallons/minute for a couple of hundred feet to just above the fig trees.
And the water trough piped from Sulphur Spring near the corrals is full and not leaking
as is the trough in the Gathering Field that Robbin and I opened up to the cows in the Lower Field, about half of which have come through the gate.
In Sulphur, the Chimney Pond has been dry for three weeks, but
the pond at Ragle Springs is currently holding a few cows in the middle of the pasture. The cows have redistributed themselves through the open gate from 17 to Sulphur in the past couple of weeks, utilizing the Sycamore Spring that is keeping two troughs full, the overflow of which keeping another neighbor’s trough full.
We’ve had a long string of days over 100°, not unusual for this time of year, that’s impacting our stockwater already. With the balance of July, August and September to get through, we’ll use these photos as benchmarks as we go. Typically, our springs begin to recover by mid-September with shorter days and cooler nights, but as the second dry year in a row, there is no guarantee of that. This information may be valuable for those who follow us, like which springs held up and which ones didn’t in a drought, and though no two years are the same, help them make more informed decisions.
Posted in Photographs
Tagged Caleb Pennebaker, Drought, Greasy Creek, photographs, Section 17, Sulphur, water, weather
Startled to rise
from primordial ooze,
my presence wears no guilt.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Feral Hog, Greasy Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, water, wildlife
Robbin and I went up to Greasy yesterday to check cattle and to see how our water was holding up. A fairly cool morning under light clouds. Lake Kaweah is dropping quickly in Greasy Cove with agricultural irrigation demands in the Valley, leaving a little green ring for the cows in Belle Point to graze.
The old concrete trough that Lee Maloy and Earl McKee Sr. poured in the 30s still holds water at Sulphur Spring, the overflow of which is keeping the troughs in Sec. 17 and the Gathering Field full.
We found a good pocket of water in Greasy Creek at the head of the Lower Field,
and like the pond at Spanish Flat, it may or may not last until fall. We opened the gate between our Lower Field and the Gathering Field to allow access to more water for the cows in the Lower Field, taking the pressure off Greasy Creek and Spanish Flat.
My father told me that in 1939, the water at Grapevine Spring was the only water available on Top after the Gill cowboys rode up and dug the spring out with shovels. We have since developed it a little more.
Railroad still has a fair amount of water, but down substantially from normal years.
The top pond at Railroad has gone dry. We put out protein supplement tubs as we went to go with the dry feed that looks pretty good everywhere considering the drought. Water will be the big issue until it rains. It’s a relief to see it holding up as well as it is, but we’ll have to monitor our water situation weekly and start bringing a little hay when we come.
Posted in Photographs
Tagged Drought, Greasy Creek, photographs, Sulphur Peak, water, weather
Summer months in the dry, dust
stirred by tiny birds, by the invisible
kiss of a breeze’s caress—so far
to go for water. Cows will lie down
and die when its gone, trusting spirits
and disassembled bones left for years
near waterholes to remind of empty eyes
gathered to wait in the shade for a drink—
nightmares that lurk on the edge of sleep,
ever ready, July through September.
So far to go, a day and a night at a time,
they take no holiday until it rains.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Drought, Greasy Creek, photographs, poetry, rain, water
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