Wednesday, October 25, 2017

October Hallelujahs

 Buckeye Tree and Oaks
 
It's surprisingly hot for a late October day.  Sweat is beading up on my temple and, while the trees are golden, I hear my grandsons' laughter drift across the thick air and it feels like summer.  It is hard to imagine that only a few days ago I sat wrapped up in a blanket in front of the black cast-iron wood stove reading while outside the rain fell.  Two inches of rain!   Soon these hills will be blanketed, once again, in green velvet.  Hallelujah.

Diamonds of water after the rains

I almost didn't believe the earth would reawaken this year  when the rains just didn't come and our skies were thick with smoke.  A dark time.  Nearby Santa Rosa had a devastating wildfire and many people and thousands of homes were lost.   I couldn't shake the thought that the smoke I was breathing was the smoke of this immense loss.   But the rains did come and the skies are clear and the renewal is beginning. We people are resourceful and inspiring. Things may look dim, but we rise again. Hallelujah. 

Smoke from Santa Rosa Fire

We've been enjoying having our son and daughter in law living here on the ranch.  They came in the summer to help with the logging, but are staying on a bit more to save money and to help us out.  There are so many things to fix and do on the ranch.  Our son has also returned to college, online, to finish his degree.  Mark and I moved into the bunkhouse, so they could have more room for their 3 young sons to run around in.  We like the bunkhouse.  There is something about being in a small, run down space that lets you let your standards down. Mark stores his mountain bike in the living room and I let the dishes pile up in the sink.  Our grandsons are the biggest joy for us, though.  It is nice to see them everyday and hear their laughter and wipe away their tears.  Zane, the oldest of the three, has begun going to our little community school.  He is in the Pre K and Kindergarten class and I often join him.  I once taught preschool, so it is a real blessing for me to be around a group of  littles again.  Hallelujah.

Boys helping Papa in the rock pit

The cows are calving. I can never get used to this fall calving thing, it seems to work here, but it seems counter intuitive.  One big plus though is the cattle are  all hungry for hay, so it makes it easier to find them and tag their calves.  The calves are cute,  with their big dark eyes and long eyelashes, but sometimes the mamas are ferocious and they bellow at us and slobber all over us while we take care of their newborns.   I am often afraid and my knees wobble and my hands shake as I apply the band to the little bulls' testicles. Mark seems fearless though and holds the calf tight and I somehow manage to get the job done.   Hallelujah.

New Calf

Sassy had her first calf this year.  She is one of my bottle fed babies. (Her story is here).  She has never forgotten me and I pet her all over and lay on her back.  Now that we are in the bunkhouse she walks right up to our door or peers in our windows mooing for a handout.  Cheeky cow.  Of course I oblige.    She hid her newborn below our barn and would come up to our house and hangout.  At first I thought she was a bad mama and had deserted her calf, but then  could tell she had been suckled from.  One evening I watched her close and seeing her take off in a determined manner I followed.  She has an adorable little fellow, and she is an excellent mother.  Hallelujah.

Sassy

And so the story goes.  Seasons come and seasons go.  New life is born.  Never forget that.  New life is born and if you  look for it you will see that the good will always rise to the top.   Just like cream.
HALLELUJAH. 

Horses and Sunset