As things wind down, new beings are born
The days are getting shorter, you can feel the change the most in the mornings and the early evenings. The quality of light is different, the smell of the earth is different, the sunsets are beautiful, and the early morning mists are back. The garden is being put to bed, the larder is stocked, the seeds are drying, the crops harvested, cover crops planted. The cows are still grazing on grass that makes me want to kick my shoes off and run barefoot through. Intense green and so lush. Through all of our madness of the season, the cows graze. Sometimes they break out, sometimes they wander down the road, sometimes they go where we don’t want them to, but they are creatures of habit. They go where the grass is good, usually where i want them to but if I’m too busy, or a tree has fallen on the line, they do the choosing. And once they do the choosing, the easiest way to bring them back is to await their need for water. Creatures of habit. Eat grass, ruminate. Eat grass, ruminate. Drink water. Groom each other. Stand head to tail to help keep the flies off of each other. Lick the salt lick for 20 minutes (Jazzy), test the fence line (William). It’s amazing to spend time with these massive animals and really sense the role that they each play in their herd. And how grateful i am that we are able to raise them with the respect and reverence that they deserve.
I count the days from the first day that Towey the bull came to visit our ladies. And diligently keep track of when the ladies are in heat, and they are no longer showing signs of heat. I count the days and come up with an approximate day. Could be anywhere from this day to that day. And i watch. I wait. I revel in the change of their bodies, how wide they look when you approach them head on. How their walks change, how they start to ‘bag up’. I wait. I watch.
And then you here the sound. The sound that only a mother makes. The soft, deep moo that you here no other time. Or the deep bellow and intense staring into a particular patch of trees, where the calf lies hidden, safe, and sleeping.
She’s arrived. Quill’s 5th calf. Quill, daughter to Kalua, daughter of Sunday. Quill, part Hereford, part Brown Swiss, 100% Linnaea.
It’s an ‘X’ year.
Welcome Xena. We’ve been awaiting your arrival. And we are so glad that you’re here. You are beautiful!