We had planned a tack sale for Saturday...so, the Weather God apparently had a consultation with the confusion/disorder/wet God and arranged a catastrophic Biblical flood just to make life a little interesting and our misery complete. As dawn broke yesterday morning, the rain began to fall, the horses all rugged up to cover any climatic disasters were unconcerned by the gloomy weather outlook and all headed intently and resolutely for the hay feeders which had been replenished by Greg and his trusty four wheeler hoodies, Bran the Border Collie and Luke the wanna be Australian Shepherd.. Our intrepid flock of sheep, all tucked up in their Woolley coats were less inclined to venture out into the rain and Misty Moo and baby Bella the Jersey prima donnas resolutely parked themselves within the shelter of the cow barn and refused to venture a bovine hoof out into the deluge. Daisy May the black Dexter momma, followed closely by little red calf Sirloin was less concerned with the drenching rain than she was by the chance of hitting the hay feeder before Misty and Bella reached it and, once released into a very soggy Cow Lane didn't take long before she was steadfastly devouring her (and everyone else's daily ration ).
Down on the ranch we are fortunate to be able watch our livestock interacting, we daily observe the tenderness of the ewes to their offspring, the cows with their calves and the close relationship between Lady and Quest, our Shire mother and son duo. It is interesting to watch Bran verbally chastising Luke for apparent indiscretions ( that we aren't necessarily aware of), Daisy loudly berating rebellious little Sirloin and Misty Moo and Bella our beautiful Jersey prima donnas wrangling over a hormonal imbalance or exclusive rights to a particularly tasty patch of grass. Our equine centenarian T bone has become very adept at avoiding the well aimed and indiscriminate kicks of his younger pasture pal, the big bay, Cooper. Old T Bone may be of advancing years, his tail may be thinning, there is grey in his hair, age in his eyes and his joints may creak but, come hell or high water he will ensure that, either heading out to pasture as day breaks or heading for home as the sun sets.... he is well out of striking range of a well aimed Cooper hoof or close enough to for a sharp nip from passing teeth. Back in the barnyard, Tiger the little ginger tabby cat has been known to lull Border Collie Bran into a false sense of security, lying prostrate on his back, soaking in the sunshine with his claws outstretched and the tip of his feline tail twitching expectantly, poor unsuspecting victim Bran is effortlessly lured within reach of a lightning swat from a crafty paw. In the hen house, the gleaming white Leghorn hens with vibrant red wattles and comb squabble over occupation rights to a coveted nest box, fight over an ill fated worm who had the misfortune to surface in the chicken pen or dispute ownership of a loose feather floating in the wind.
Every day as dawn breaks over the pastures and the red sky reflects in a mirror glass pond or on a turbulent swirling maelstrom of water we have been given the blessing of being part of something much larger than us. Seasons come and seasons go,.... Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, we endure driving winds, drenching rain, icy cold snow and blistering sunshine. We watch the fresh green leaves budding and we watch the red and gold leaves fall slowly to the ground. We watch in wonder the miracle of birth, life and death on the ranch, and we are grateful that we are lucky enough to be the stewards on this land we call home. Take care, keep safe, M
Down on the ranch we are fortunate to be able watch our livestock interacting, we daily observe the tenderness of the ewes to their offspring, the cows with their calves and the close relationship between Lady and Quest, our Shire mother and son duo. It is interesting to watch Bran verbally chastising Luke for apparent indiscretions ( that we aren't necessarily aware of), Daisy loudly berating rebellious little Sirloin and Misty Moo and Bella our beautiful Jersey prima donnas wrangling over a hormonal imbalance or exclusive rights to a particularly tasty patch of grass. Our equine centenarian T bone has become very adept at avoiding the well aimed and indiscriminate kicks of his younger pasture pal, the big bay, Cooper. Old T Bone may be of advancing years, his tail may be thinning, there is grey in his hair, age in his eyes and his joints may creak but, come hell or high water he will ensure that, either heading out to pasture as day breaks or heading for home as the sun sets.... he is well out of striking range of a well aimed Cooper hoof or close enough to for a sharp nip from passing teeth. Back in the barnyard, Tiger the little ginger tabby cat has been known to lull Border Collie Bran into a false sense of security, lying prostrate on his back, soaking in the sunshine with his claws outstretched and the tip of his feline tail twitching expectantly, poor unsuspecting victim Bran is effortlessly lured within reach of a lightning swat from a crafty paw. In the hen house, the gleaming white Leghorn hens with vibrant red wattles and comb squabble over occupation rights to a coveted nest box, fight over an ill fated worm who had the misfortune to surface in the chicken pen or dispute ownership of a loose feather floating in the wind.
Every day as dawn breaks over the pastures and the red sky reflects in a mirror glass pond or on a turbulent swirling maelstrom of water we have been given the blessing of being part of something much larger than us. Seasons come and seasons go,.... Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, we endure driving winds, drenching rain, icy cold snow and blistering sunshine. We watch the fresh green leaves budding and we watch the red and gold leaves fall slowly to the ground. We watch in wonder the miracle of birth, life and death on the ranch, and we are grateful that we are lucky enough to be the stewards on this land we call home. Take care, keep safe, M
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