
Snow comes off the mountain
on the backs of trucks,
white caps on compacts
like trophies
to melt on roads
into town—
cold hands
shoveled dirt driveways
steer downhill.

Snow comes off the mountain
on the backs of trucks,
white caps on compacts
like trophies
to melt on roads
into town—
cold hands
shoveled dirt driveways
steer downhill.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2025, poetry, Ranch Journal
Tagged Dry Creek Road, snow, Sulphur Peak, weather

Your robe’s frozen sleeve
reaches the creek once again,
my unending friend,
you carry both storm
and heaven on your shoulders
when I reflect up—
face unwavering
beneath sun and starlit night
always in the morning.
______________________________________
It’s been interesting weather, now half-way through our rainy season, over 18 inches of rain after a decade of drought. Already whispers from the loudest drought complainers for relief as these hills leak crystal rivulets again.
We lost a month in time in January to the Atmospheric River during branding season, and now with nearly 3 inches in the past 3 days and 3 inches more forecast for the next three, it will be at least a week before we can get to our upper country to brand the last bunch, putting us close to the middle of March. These calves will be big, a handful.
The Paregien Ranch ranges from 2,000 to 2,600 with its own light blanket of snow now, time-released moisture soaking into the clay and granite ground that leaks down the smooth rock waterfalls of Ridenhour Canyon, adding to Dry Creek that peaked at 684 cfs last night, that probably washed out some of our watergaps replaced after January’s peak flow over 3,500 cfs.
Job security, but patience until we can get there—you can’t fight Mother Nature, just try to adapt and face the consequences—fully enjoy her luxuriant and persistent presence after so much needed moisture.
Posted in Haiku 2023, Photographs, POEMS 2023, Ranch Journal
Tagged branding, Drought, Dry Creek, grass, green, haiku, Mother Nature, Paregien, patience, photography, poetry, rain, snow, Sulphur Peak, weather

1. We feed on numbers, irrigate and harvest plans with shaved efficiencies, measure our well-being by more or less with what’s on paper so easily burned or suddenly erased— we forget who we are. 2. We share amounts of rain, compare numbers with the neighbors, too often disappointed with what we need most: just enough moisture to revive this ground— this flesh and our more common senses.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2021, Ranch Journal
Tagged common senses, earth, flesh, rain, snow, Sulphur Peak, weather
On the other side,
all the current dangers rage
unseen that words cannot
assuage. Isolated here,
hands busy with simple
tasks, we cannot breathe.
On the other side,
an unknown future waits
to reshape us to survive.
Fifty years ago,
I was afraid
I would become proficient—
integrate guilt and hate
into my young soul
to become the best
at squeezing death
before a soldier’s
impromptu grave.
On the other side,
we pray for clarity—
for humble purpose.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2020, Ranch Journal
Tagged Covid-19, Dry Creek, election year, Fire, poetry, politics, Sulphur Peak
Robbin and I spent most of yesterday checking the cows and calves in Greasy, scattering salt and mineral beneath the Golden Poppies on Sulphur. Colder and under quite a bit of snow this winter, the grass and wildflowers are just getting started. Note all the drought-killed Blue Oaks in the foreground.
Low snow up canyon, cold
rain at dawn, vernal pools
in the pasture stand full
waiting for Wood Ducks,
waiting for spring.
Sycamores stripped naked,
their white limbs wave
from across the creek
upon these ponds of water
in the evening sun.
Headlights slash the darkness,
a caravan of jeeps
and 4-wheel drives
whine down canyon—
weary songs back home.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2019, Ranch Journal
Tagged photography, poetry, snow, Sulphur Peak
Overnight rain, wind, hail and a light dusting of snow down to 2,000 feet for our Christmas present on Dry Creek. Fairly rare, especially during the last four years.
Whole family here jamming into the late night hours (10:00 p.m., 3 hours past my bedtime), Robbin and Bob with guitars, Jaro and I with harmonicas, all singing what lyrics we knew.
All good, beautiful morning, Christmas 2015!
Bagels and lochs on the deck.
October slips away from the sun
sliding south down the ridgeline
after a quick rain clears
the air,
settles summer’s dust,
erases tracks
for a day:
another beginning
to another adventure—
nearly 25,000 now.
No calls from beyond
Sulphur Peak:
old friend
to generations waking
from dreams and restless sleep.
On top in the brush
a 2” x 2” surveyor’s pole,
a Challenge Butter buck
not quite in rut.
Spring poppy overlay of gold
winter cap of snow—
never naked,
always changing clothes.
~
Weekly Photo Challenge: “(Extra)ordinary”
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal
Tagged dawn, October, Sulphur Peak, weekly-photo-challenge
To complete our documentation of last week’s efforts to improve the availability of water for cattle, Terri Blanke stands beside the upper concrete box last Wednesday, one of many constructed by Earl McKee, Sr. and Lee Maloy in the 1930s when they packed cement and sand on mules from the Kaweah River, five miles and 2,500 feet in elevation away.
From the bottom, the upper box was plumbed to the lower box with 1½“ steel pipe too rusty and leaky to repair, rendering the lower box useless. In the 1990s, Earl McKee, Jr. and Chuck Fry constructed the pond below with dozers to collect all the leaks plus seasonal runoff. Dirt tank dry by the end of June for past two years, I installed the little galvanized trough last year to provide clean water by utilizing a hole in the side of the upper box.
While David Langton was mucking out the pond at Grapevine last Saturday, I plumbed the second concrete tank to the overflow of the little galvanized trough with 1 ¼“ PVC and galvanized riser. On Monday, while David was covering the PVC, he bumped the rock beside the galvanized trough with his backhoe’s outrigger, which moved the empty trough and snapped my PVC fill pipe. We plugged the flow from the upper box with a plastic bag and I went for hose at the corrals a mile below to syphon water into the galvanized trough rather than lose it, giving me time (2½ hours) to get to town for galvanized pipe replacements.
There wasn’t enough water stored in the little galvanized trough for the fourteen head of cows living at Ragle Springs, yet the little trough filled and overflowed at night. Assuming the lower box doesn’t leak as it fills, we will have enough water stored for the fourteen cows—a good day for all.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged David Langton, Dirt Works, Earl McKee, Ragle Springs, Sulphur Peak, weekly-photo-challenge