Friday, January 17, 2014

"White faced cattle lowing, sagebrush everywhere

Granite spires are standing all around
I'll tell you folks it's heaven to go ridin' down the trail
Just to watch the desert sun go down"

from Riding Down the Canyon
   as performed by Arlo Guthrie

As always when on the farm I went out to marvel
at the mismatched horns and coat palettes that
constitute Ralph's herd I did notice the Angus Black
seems to be disapperaing. 

Again with a tip of my hat to Roy 
(at roynaturelogbook see my  links )
I have declared a Cow Day.

Dreams of Disarmament

Harry the great polled Charolais
swollen as the sin of pride,
heavy with muscle and vitality
counts his kingdom of one
way out in the far field.

He spares us only one baleful glare
for his thoughts are far away
down to the main corral where
Morely the half-pint Hereford
flashes his horns for an admiring throng.


Thursday, January 9, 2014

" It is a winter's tale
That the snow blind twilight ferries over the lakes
And floating fields from the farm in the cup of the vales,
Gliding windless through the hand folded flakes,
The pale breath of cattle at the stealthy sail,

And the stars falling cold,
And the smell of hay in the snow, and the far owl
Warning among the folds, and the frozen hold
Flocked with the sheep white smoke of the farm house cowl
In the river wended vales where the tale was told. "

from A Winter's Tale
Dylan Thomas

More from the farm.


"When for too long I don't go deep enough
into the woods to see them, they begin to
enter my dreams. Yes, there they are, in the
pinewoods of my inner life. I want to live a life
full of modesty and praise. Each hoof of each
animal makes the sign of a heart as it touches
then lifts away from the ground. Unless you
believe that heaven is very near, 
how will you
find it?"

from The Faces of Deer
Mary Oliver

" Now do U understand what heaven is
it is the surround of the living"

                                             The Changing Light at Sandover
                                                          James Merrill

Saturday, January 4, 2014

"In the small beauty of the forest
The wild deer bedding down—
That they are there!

                              Their eyes
Effortless, the soft lips
Nuzzle and the alien small teeth
Tear at the grass

                              The roots of it
Dangle from their mouths
Scattering earth in the strange woods.
They who are there."

from George Oppen

We were able to get out to the farm over 
Christmas but a mixture of lots of snow, very 
cold temperature and the colds we brought 
with us meant we did not drop by the cabin and 
I did not get as many good photos as I had hoped.
However we did get in lots of visiting and  saw
the family so that was good.

Deer were abundant  this year their trails running
thru the garden across the lane and over to where
Ralph has stacked his bails. They were making great
headway in ripping them apart and you could see 
deer passing back and forth from the windows.

"Time wants to show you a different country. It's the one
that your life conceals, the one waiting outside
when curtains are drawn, the one Grandmother hinted at
in her crochet design, the one almost found
over at the edge of the music, after the sermon."

from The Gift
                                  William Stafford