Yesterday — to our total and complete surprise — the sky clouded over, the wind came up, the trees tossed their heads around and knowing the importance of carpeing the diem, I closed the back door, put on real shoes, leashed Bear and headed out. It was an…
There was a poor hungry raven attempting to raid anyone’s nest and being chased by everybody. It was fun to watch him feint and dive to escape the sharp beaks of all the little birds, mostly redwing blackbirds. I saw him later attempting to raid the nests of doves. Don’t believe doves = peace. Not in the real world. Fierce beasties. They usually hang out in the spruce trees and on the roof of the ranger’s house.
The waterbirds have mostly taken off for points north. Only four adult geese remain in the big pond, both with their families. One has a family of one gosling. The other has eight. The goose fights over territory are over now and they all swim happily together like best friends.
As Bear and I went our way in the wind, which liberated us from heat, mosquitoes and horse-flies, Bear stopped, her eyes rapt on something to the north west. I stopped, too. Dogs are great for making sure we don’t miss things. And there was…
Bessie, her sisters, their husband, and one solitary yearling calf. They were closer to the pasture where we’d met than they’d been since last summer. It’s totally irrational, but love that cow. Well, in a general sense I love cows. I think they’re really cool animals and yes, I do eat them from time to time. They aren’t my favorite food, but sometimes a bit of cow is very tasty.
I think Bessie and her family are unlikely to be steaks. I don’t know their story, but they are incredibly beautiful Herefords, and my theory is Bessie’s husband’s sperm goes for a pretty good price. The herd never grows or diminishes in size. It’s always a small clutch of bovine beauty, a bull, and a yearling.
The wonderful thing is that when I called out, “Bessie!” (not her name, just the name I gave her) they all turned to look at me and one of the cows came as close as she could to the fence between us — 1/8 mile away :-(. Bessie has come when I’ve called her in the past so maybe that IS her name. Seeing them made me think about last summer and how wonderful it was in September last year when I met them. I had a feeling of camaraderie with those cows, their curiosity and slow-moving purpose. The photo is Bessie the first time I saw her last September.
As we walked, the light changed constantly.
Only a few flowers bloom in the Refuge, that is things that LOOK like flowers. Every plant blooms in its way. The wetlands are still a mystery to me because I don’t really go INTO them, but along the trail were yellow clover, something called “white top,” primrose. A little later in the summer the tall, yellow primrose will be blooming. But on the way the pastures were filled with wild iris.
No photos, sorry. Since I don’t have a working phone, I see no point in taking the new or old phone out there. The new phone is big and, in my mind, heavy. I regret very much even entering this adventure of a new phone, but I did, I have a contract, and a good camera (aka phone), so I should just be grateful I guess. Actually, grateful is just a good strategy. Sometime in the next few days I’ll head up to Colorado Springs and, hopefully, get this thing going.