Tag Archives: photography

LOOKING BACK

 

April calves load easy here

for unknown destinations

looking back to say goodbye

 

to someone lost

in the muddled moment’s

brain fog.

 

Old between brothers,

we remember stories

the other’s forgot—

 

a thrill on spry legs

to dance through time

as if young all over again.

 

 

PERSEVERANCE

 

Called too soon, persistence rooted

where peaceful dreams beneath their leaves

spilled downhill at dawn—a slow awakening

 

like death in reverse, never thinking

of other ways to pass the time. Weathered

skeletons of young Blue Oaks cling

 

to where their acorns fell to rest

before the wet and stormy springs

kept a chance of an idyllic life alive.

 

Truth is: no right or wrong of it—

no philosophy to make fit

what we’ll not need to understand.

 

CLASS OF 2023

 

Black backs

through summer light

across the road beside the creek

 

grazing green

upon a highwater sand bank

deposited by atmospheric rivers.

 

Black backs

of virgin children, our future

breathes in 105 heat.

 

 

GETTING SHORTER

 

I don’t recall Dry Creek ever flowing into August, as springs continue to feed this morning’s 9 cfs (cubic feet/second).  March’s atmospheric river estimated 8,000 cfs, that scoured the channel and undermined the gauging station, left few places to cross the resultant boulder fields and cutbanks. Only now, as our cattle work winds down, do we have time to address some of the impacts of last spring’s rains.

Both for vehicles and cattle, I had to move our crossing downstream.  Moving the big rocks was rough work for the skid steer, but I had all the materials I needed in the high water drifts of sand and gravel to smooth the crossing this morning—less than a three hour job.  On the way to the corrals, hoof action of our replacement heifers will smooth it a little more.

We’re looking forward to September when the cows begin to calve, another month of a hundred degree weather that often extends into October, but the hot summer days are getting shorter.

IN THE COMPANY OF COWS

 

It’s a dirty trick

not to bring ‘hello hay’

by flake or bale,

 

to show empty-handed

with a cluttered mind

from another world.

 

If I had the time

I’d stay the day among them,

forget myself

 

and lie down and learn

to chew my cud

without thinking.

 

ON THE MARCH

We train our young replacement heifers to be gentle and to follow the Kubota or feed truck when we feed so when they go up the hill in the next year or two, we can gather them and their calves easily.  Having been through the same process, their mothers and grandmothers have imprinted this same calmness on their calves.

Due to the atmospheric rivers, we were unable to see our cattle for 3 months, but the calves gentled down quickly in the weaning pen on alfalfa hay.  Now weaned about 30 days, they’ve been turned out along the creek on native feed and a little extra green due to the spring rains.  We’ve been supplementing them once-a -week. While I was photographing the floods’ ensuing boulder fields and patches of cockleburs, they heard the Kubota and followed me, on the march, towards the feed ground, hoping it was the right day.

ACORNS

   

            One by one off trucks,

            hooked or boomed into the barn

            banked for the unknown.

 

Sweaty, sleeveless shirt, Dusty

Bohannon, until he died, unloaded

thousands of bob-tailed trucks

 

before the booms pitched bales inside,

before the squeezes stacked dumps up

for unknown winter times

 

like grounded vermin store

in tunneled chambers, or cackling birds

in fenceposts pecked with holes.

 

AFTER ATMOSPHERIC RIVERS

 

The magic remains along the creek

spread wide with naked cobbles pressed

together, exposed by flooding sheets

 

that ripped its sandy banks before

leaving the channel changed—

a landscape rearranged for the moment!

 

A summer gurgle, herons and egrets come

to wade abandoned pools of pollywogs

shrinking into moss-covered gravel.

 

Green cockleburs rise-up from ribbons

of sand, high-water veins bleached white

until colored or carried away with the burrs.

 

The truth is endless here—it will keep

saying the same thing in different ways

well after we are gone.

 

BREAKFAST WITH HEIFERS

 

Third day wean

when hungry heifers

eat out of my hands

at the feed bunk—

 

leafy alfalfa flakes

that fall apart, the rich

green of last year’s

high-dollar hay—

 

rather than distress

over mothers no longer 

posted at the gate

that most have left

 

lamenting another loss

of nine-month intimacy

and their mother-daughter

companionship.

 

Weaning Steers

 

I think we’ve finally caught up and close to being on time with our ranch work since the last Atmospheric River at the end of March.  We got across the creek towards the end of April when flow was down to 90 cfs to see our cows while trying to get our fences up to hold them when we gathered and weaned.  Since the ARs, Dry Creek is spider-webbed with streams of sand in new high-water channels requiring some leveling with the skid steer to replace fencing and to approach the creek.  Meanwhile on this side of the road and creek, we’ve had a crew building fence to better accommodate the acreage changes since Robbin and I have scaled down our activities.

 

But on time, our first bunch of calves will be weaned and ready for Visalia Livestock Market’s “Off the Grass Sale” on Wednesday, May 17th.  They are 7-weight Vintage-sired steers.  The market has been strong, though slightly weaker  lately.  With our cow numbers down due to acreage changes and past years of drought, we will need whatever extra money the market will offer us.

 

After seven days a week for nearly two months, it’s a relief to feel caught up.