Monday, November 9, 2020

Take a trip and never leave the farm






A week of brilliant weather provided for much out-of-doors pleasure. I got in a lot of fence work, a lot of miles hiking, and did my support part while the cattle owners weaned calves.

That last part is the physical separation of calves from cows. The calves need to go do their growing up stuff, and the cows, who are pregnant with calves due in April, need to concentrate on growing babies, putting down fat reserves, and shifting to winter survival conditions.

The cattle owners brought all the cattle into the corrals, separated cows from calves, then hauled calves to a different location. The cows left behind "missed" their babies and made a good bit of noise for the first 24 hours. The "missing" comes from both the maternal bond and the fact that their udders get tight with unsuckled milk and they have some discomfort while lactation shuts down and their body reabsorbs the milk.

It's all part of the natural cycle of things.

Sunday brought a weather change. Temperatures fell and a cold front blew through with damp and wind and scudding clouds and rain.

Uncomfortable compared to the lazy loveliness of a pleasant mid-autumn, but stark and beautiful and refreshing.


These are the things I get to see as they happen in nature's reality. I'd never get to see and experience the changes and contrasts were I chained to the recliner. Such things happen out there, not in the house or on the tee-vee. I am blessed.








##########

My farmer friends from Herefordshire got away for a few days to visit Carbis Bay and Land's End. They shared some video with me which represents another blessing.

Breakfast.


Rainbow.


Low tide.


##########

Yesterday was extremely rough. Loss and longing exploded in my heart and every single thing reminded me of what is gone. Most of the day I felt as if I were barely hanging on. At such moments the self-pity is overwhelming and even ugly, yet I can't just shut it off. It has to be endured while it runs its course. God keeps me sane, but that doesn't make it any easier. Livin' can be hard, but it's also a choice.

Life goes on, and that's a fact. Everything is different now, but that doesn't mean that what we had is gone as if it never happened. For some reason I don't understand there are a few people around who feel the urge to rewrite history. It's kind of an ugly thing to do. Fortunately, they can't. We win, they lose, end of story.


Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.




13 comments:

  1. Love the photos from the Plains. Lovely out there it is.

    The pain will come and go, it's my experience that the interval between those periods gets long. But it doesn't go away. Glad you're weathering the storm.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It is beautiful. The whole five senses experience is better but impossible to capture in two dimensions and a bit of noise.

      I'm making it but sometimes it's hard.

      Thanks Chris.

      Delete
  2. Montana prides itself on being "Big Sky Country", but having been there, and out on the Great Plains, I think we beat them!

    The one picture after the windmills is what I'm taking about. The sky and the plains just seem to go on forever.....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. We do have some big sky vistas out here. The dancing shafts of sunlight on Sunday were like slow motion lightning. Breathtaking.

      Thanks drjim.

      Delete
  3. I'd forgotten about weaning calves. Our small 35 acre ranch was once home to a sawmill and we had a twelve team sized barn with associated stout corrals. We kept the calves in a corral on one side of the barn. We only milked for nine months. Once we dried the cows, we let all graze together. The calves were bucket raise along with the unwanted bull calves from the bigger dairy operators.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's interesting the way you folks clawed out your niche and worked with what nature provided.

      Thanks Frank.

      Delete
  4. Not commenting very often, but thought I'd stop by and say that when I saw this post heading - Jim Stafford.
    Frank

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. In my mind I thought to play on the wonder of seeing video from England on my phone while drudging around the sere autumn landscape of the "farm" here in nebraska. Naturally, with my mind, the phrase from Stafford's song came out in the mix...

      Thanks Frank.

      Delete
    2. Hey, an unfamiliar word or a typo? Lex used to do that all the time.
      Sere. I like it, perfect word for the job at hand.
      John Blackshoe

      Delete
    3. Dry, withered, threadbare. Might be the best word to describe this part of the world at this time of the year.

      Thanks John.

      Delete
  5. Hate those damn wind turbines!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. They certainly make me see what poor Alonso Quixano was on about. They have a certain charm when the sun strikes them on a blustery day. Beauty even. Nothing in life is simply one thing or another. Which is part of the charm of livin', methinks.

      Thanks Brig.

      Delete
    2. This person raised as a good steward of the land would beg to differ. They are a pox on the landscape, are not energy efficient,or a renewable resource, and kill more wildlife than is ever reported. They started out as a boondoggle and continue to be so...

      Delete