Last evening, a small lightning strike just before, dark half-mile from the house, as monsoonal moisture sailed up the west side of the Sierras. Easily accessible, we count our blessings.
Neighbor Tony Rivas had the fire pretty-much corralled with his shovel by the time I arrived with the skid steer. Another neighbor, Chuck Fry, had the gates unlocked for the CDF insuring we didn’t have to fix fence when the fire was out. Still flashing in the mountains this morning, 0.09″ rain.
Branding calves is an acquired art, not to be confused with the timed rodeo event of team roping. The idea is to get the calf to the fire while making it as easy on the calf, horses and ground crew (in that order) as possible. Douglas Thomason above times the rhythm of his loop for a long distance shot, catching the calf before it knows it’s caught, half the job done with no stress and little fuss.
Though the camaraderie is an essential part of trading labor, the branding pen is not a place for recreation. Robbin and I appreciate the care our neighbors take with our calves, as this 450 pound bull calf above would bring about $1,100 in town today. We hope that by June that he’ll be a 650 steer and bring in the vicinity of $2.50/lb. An injured calf, or ones overstressed and susceptible to sickness can become expensive.
Followers of branding pictures on this blog will recognize many familiar faces. On the ground, everyone has a job to do, an orderly process of vaccinations, castration, branding, dehorning, earmarking, tagging and recording–in the branding pen, it can become a dynamic dance.
Yet in the midst of it all, there are moments that might be forgotten if not captured in a photograph, whether a daughter recently returned home having a moment with her father,
or a Brent Huntington wiping sweat and smoke from his eyes.
Our thanks to all, especially the several anonymous photographers.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged branding, Brent Huntington, Calves, Douglas Thomason, Greasy Creek, neighbors, photographs
We set the ‘point and shoot’ on the branding table, the following were shot by several different people.
There is no easy tribute to good neighbors necessary in the branding pen, whether horseback or on the ground. Trading labor is part of our culture, and the work’s not done until everyone’s calves are branded and vaccinated. Towards the tail end of the branding season, our last bunch of calves were big, which makes Robbin and I happy of course, but it also means harder and more dangerous work for everyone.
Our gather to brand in Greasy began Sunday, over a week ago, interrupted by welcome rain that kept us from finishing the process until last Tuesday — some cows and calves had spent eleven days in out Gathering Field waiting for yesterday. Additionally, wood had to be cut for the branding and cook fires, and the weeds in the corral, nearly two-foot tall, had to be addressed with a weed-eater before we were ready.
It was a long day, shirtsleeves weather, warm in the mid-70s.
Always some exciting moments, even though everyone tries to be respectful and gentle with the calves, some were a handful, pushing 500 pounds.
Calm and steady, we have acquired an efficient routine of ropers and ground crew. Divided into two groups of ropers so arms and horses have time to rest between bunches, there’s always time to visit.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged branding, Calves, cows, Greasy Creek, neighbors, photographs, weather
1.
After the flood of holiday cheer
and four black and frosty mornings
into the New Year, I have lost track
of the names of days
celebrating work:
friends gathered,
calves branded,
meat fired
and bottles emptied—
the hugs and handshakes
of neighbors, persistent
habits etched deeper
in the hard ground
worn around our eyes—
deeper yet into souls,
our pupils as pinholes
to grand landscapes
either side, missed
by the migratory headed
somewhere up the road.
2.
We live within a dot on the map,
a speck of dust on a spinning globe
in space and time without end,
holding firm to our moment,
looking back and ahead at once:
no finish line in sight.
3.
We pace our plodding, take all week
to get the work done, to savor details
of small accomplishment in a hazy
scheme of keeping track of seasons
shaped by rain, or lack of it—
our spiritual sustenance comes
with the crescendo of storms
we pray for, almost everyday, keeping
busy while we wait for an answer.
4.
In the winter, we invest in the future
measured by firewood stacked outside
the door, like last year’s crop of acorns
stored by natives, wild and domestic,
we are prepared in this place
to loose track of days scattered
like native cattle into strays
chasing the good grass back home.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Dry Creek, Fire, friends, garden, haiku, neighbors, photographs, poetry, weekly-photo-challenge
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