Tag Archives: photographs

SIGN 2012?

Posted on December 6, 2014 by | 3 comments

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Rare October Redbud bloom
summoned Monarchs,
began a two-year drought.

 

 

WPC(1) — “Gone, But Not Forgotten”

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VISITORS

Posted on December 5, 2014 by | 1 comment

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                                                A song, not mine,
                              stuttered in the flame.
                                   – Wendell Berry (“From the Distance”)

I was awake and she was smiling,
eyes speaking through the darkness—
tears of relief in my own.

We have our visitors, hear the gravel
on the drive turn under wheel,
without warning. Or the dog barks.

Or upon the happenstance of a phrase
yet echoing, they arrive
around the fire we are warmed by.

Living beyond the life we contemplate,
they assure us with a sign, align
the flight of birds with words

gliding, or in a whir of wings
they clutch our hearts. Are we
but aging flesh measured by numbers

and graded like meat to be consumed
by the machine, or is there another
currency common among all men?

 

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FARMING THE FUTURE

Posted on December 4, 2014 by | 2 comments

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The wells run deeper now
past the Pleistocene and into salt
at half a million bucks a pop
for the last of the water
as the Valley collapses
under the weight
of farming investors
for the moment
leaving Mom and Pop
and forty acres
high and dry
with one last roll
for agribusiness—
one last extraction
from a thirsty future.

No dirt farmers left
to turn the earth,
make sweet love
with furrows
and pruning sheers
for a crop to harvest,
wobbly wagon loads
to railroad towns
grown bright and urban
in a couple of lifetimes
farming the future.

 

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BLUE OAK

Posted on December 3, 2014 by | 1 comment

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A man builds a house around a fire,
rocks and hearth upon the earth—
cuts wood to feed it, to stand close

to the flame when cold to the bone—
a luxury: he gets in touch
with the basics, with the tree.

Sometimes he says a little prayer
for the century felled or fallen,
or nods to hardwood cores intact

all his long life, stacking brush
for quail, cleaning up for grass
and cattle, like we’ve never been here.

 

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FIREKEEPER

Posted on December 3, 2014 by | Leave a comment

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She knows her wood
and how long it will last—
loves Blue Oak coals
and the Live Oak with little ash.

Redwood splinters for an ember,
Manzanita for heat and flame,
she keeps a never-ending fire
three months warm each year.

 

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LIKE IT

Posted on December 2, 2014 by | 2 comments

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Black, no stars—a mist before the storm
stacks-up against the Sierra Nevadas—
rises and rains just in time for grass
struggling with hard, thirsty clay.

We, too, have grown hard
with no deep moisture, roots dry
and brittle as the Live Oaks offering
boughs full of brown medallions.

The problem bears have moved
to town, followed the Kaweah
down into backyards and alleys,
packs of hungry coyotes behind them.

Slow and gentle would be best
for the red, south and west slopes,
any kind of puddles for the flats—
but whatever we get, we’ll like it ☺

 

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Ranch Journal: Having Fun (6 pix)

Posted on December 1, 2014 by | 7 comments

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With no worries about stockwater nor under the gun to feed cattle everyday, Robbin and I went to the Paregien Ranch Saturday to check on the bulls we put out Monday and to cut a Kubota load of stove wood ahead of the rain forecast for Tuesday and Wednesday.

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The grass is fading in places but the cows are holding up fairly well with growing demand from their calves. What feed we have lacks strength, but with our reduced numbers, the cows are staying full.

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We were a curiosity to a couple of bull calves, approaching three months old, as we cleaned up a dead tree near the solar pump that we installed this summer. Robbin took pictures while stacking the brush.

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Liking the smell and taste of the wood chips and sawdust, I was worried that they might try to lick the chain saw blade.

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Just checking on our cows and calves and cutting wood are the fun jobs we haven’t had the time or luxury to enjoy,

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and getting comfortable with relaxing seems to come in stages after virtually two years of feeding and trying to keep the nucleus of our cow herd intact. But we made real progress towards becoming human again over our fun-filled Thanksgiving weekend.

 

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SAPSUCKER

Posted on November 30, 2014 by | 1 comment

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Coffee at dawn, drumming
the Honey Locust—
old men talk, listening.

 

 

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DRIVING CATTLE

Posted on November 29, 2014 by | 3 comments

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A convergence of wills,
young mothers to be,
moving to new country.

 

 

WPC — “Converge” —

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THANKSGIVING 2014

Posted on November 28, 2014 by | 1 comment
December 8, 2010

December 8, 2010

 

The green struggles in the clay.
Sycamores stand half-dressed
beside an empty bed exposing
white limbs as the sun sets.
The shadow of the ridge behind us
becomes a long, dark stage
for a chorus line of dancing girls,
arms entwined, kicking high
at the gate as we leave home
for a fire upstream—turkey
trimmed with camaraderie.
No traffic on the road to see
these celebrations along the creek
as the canyon waits for rain.

 

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