Tag Archives: rain

DRY

Posted on June 11, 2014 by John | 1 comment

Tagged Drought, Greasy Creek, photographs, rain, Sulphur Peak, water, Wordless Wednesday

THE ELEPHANT

Posted on June 10, 2014 by John | 7 comments

We are gnats on the elephant
dependent on weather
and her mastodonian nature:
a flick of an ear or a downpour.

She has taught us to be adaptable,
to stay humble, to turn tragedies
to opportunities and despite
our good luck, revel quietly

upon our small part of her dusty
hide. And she accepts us—as long as
we remain less irritating than those
on the rest of her landscape.

7 Comments

Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014

Tagged Greasy corrals, Greasy Creek, photographs, poetry, rain, Sulphur Peak, weather

WPC—ROOM

Posted on June 7, 2014 by John | 27 comments

First dawn after a rain
turkey vultures need
room to dry their feathers.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Room

27 Comments

Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014

Tagged haiku, photographs, poetry, rain, turkey vulture, weekly-photo-challenge

RIDING FOR REMNANTS

Posted on May 7, 2014 by John | 1 comment

Gods and goddesses tempt us,
pull mind and flesh to choose
between commercials

hawking sloth and greed,
or the new and improved
comforts that never last

as long as we do. Raining
cold in my face, she suggests
the woodstove waits

for coffee and company, that
old men can catch their deaths
looking up canyons for silhouettes

of cows and calves that grazed
early morning’s ridgeline.
Her running mate reminds

that I won’t rest easily by the fire
not knowing—and vows to come along
to make the wet ride fun.

1 Comment

Posted in Poems 2014

Tagged choices, poetry, rain

LATE APRIL THUNDERSTORM

Posted on April 27, 2014 by John | 1 comment

The earth like a clean sheet waits
for dawn through cold, gray cumulous
stacked atop hillsides of bare, dark clay

after a thunderstorm’s harsh scouring—
each thin blade stimulated, invigorated
to meet tomorrow with alacrity,

reckless grins upon every face
and we, foolishly, have no choice
but to imitate the mob’s delight

and forget the dry for a moment
to consider the range of this miracle—
of our goddess-come-home-late

and gone-so-long we have forgotten
what she looks like—what we
have taken for granted, and why.

1 Comment

Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014

Tagged Drought, photographs, poetry, rain, weather

Puddles in the Pasture

Posted on April 26, 2014 by John | Leave a comment

One measure of yesterday’s rain event, the largest all season long, are the puddles in the horse pasture the Wood Ducks have yet to find early this morning, many of which have left Dry Creek without nesting. Two related thunderstorms poured through the afternoon and into the night to leave 1.91″ in the gauge, roughly 25% of our season’s total. This will prolong our feed in the granite above 2,000 feet for two or three more weeks and add life to our stock water ponds. I don’t expect much impact to what’s left of the feed on our clay slopes at the lower elevations, but anything that may be still green will appreciate the moisture.

FORT VISALIA

Posted on April 22, 2014 by John | Leave a comment

Most days, they can’t see
outside the fort, foothills full
of native ghosts in wild skins

and fine feathers, or the clouds
that boil, fume and sometimes
storm for the fun of it.

Busy with new rules to keep
the stockade safe, they can’t hear
the coyote’s wail in the street—

we live outside its walls
by the same laws
the bird and animal people left us.

In the Granite

Posted on April 9, 2014 by John | 2 comments

Paregien Ranch – April 8, 2014

During this drought, we’ve often made the distinction between our granite country at the higher elevations of the ranch, generally above 1,500 feet, and the clay slopes below that. In contrast with the last post, we put out salt and mineral at the Paregien Ranch and checked the feed and fleshiness of our cattle to help determine when we will gather and wean the calves. Obviously it’s another world up there, receiving over 2 inches of rain at the first of the month, and the cattle are doing fine.