Friday, April 27, 2012

A Thousand

A picture is worth a thousand words or so they say. And I would have given a thousand bucks (if I was rich as Buffet) for a camera this morning early on the hillside, up behind the house.

See last night we had a lousy evening. A good heifer calved and was down at milking time and we were all running around like three-headed border collies, taking care of her, and milking and all that goes on each evening. By the time we finally got inside the homemade spaghetti sauce had kind of lost its charm....

When we brought them in, I noticed old Boston was looking like calving and mentioned we ought to give her a bottle of calcium before we turned her out. Then I forgot all about it. So did everyone else.

I remembered when we finally turned out, just at dark and I saw her hustling up the hill like her fanny was on fire.

Great. One of our best cows. Ten years old, a Comestar Leader daughter, out of one of the best show and milk families we ever had.

I was up long before daylight worrying about her. As soon as the sun began stretching silver fingers across the grazing cattle, Liz, the Boss and I were out bringing the herd down to eat some baled hay in the barnyard and looking for Boston.

Liz found her quickly; she was fine, grazing with a wet new bull calf hopping along beside her. Liz called but her phone cut out.

It was so cold that I had run back in the house to get the Boss his winter hat (and to get mine...and some gloves....and a polar fleece vest). I hurried out to make sure Liz was okay....hustled up the heifer hill as fast as I could.

And there they were, the most beautiful tableau you could imagine.

The farmer, hands in pockets, hoodie pulled tight against the wind. Liz, hands in pockets, pony tail whipping in the freezing gale, both spotlighted against the skyline with Boston and the baby before them. The grass was green as Ireland with the tips gilded as if on fire. Killdeers were screaming and the sun was flinging mile-long shadows from their feet to the woods on the west.

It took my breath away to see them standing here...good news, good folks, a good old cow with her eighth calf beside her. And all the glory that God could give us stretched out in every direction, free to drink in as we would.

We left Boston to her baby....he's a bit too young to walk to the barn yet. She was grazing good in between licking him off and mooing at him, so she should be okay for a bit....but how I wish I had taken the camera along to take that picture.


joated said...

Sounds beautiful.

Anonymous said...

Your post made me weep with the beauty of your description.
The image of your loved ones will
stay with you forever. Who needs a camera when you capture beauty with your words?

Jeff said...

This may be my favorite post ever!

Woodswalker said...

You didn't need a camera, my dear. Your beautiful words showed us the scene more clearly and deeply than any photo could have.

Rev. Paul said...

What they said. Your description left no doubt as to the magnificence of the scene. Thank you.

Jan said...

They are right. We would have missed your great description. Wonderful post.

Linda said...

I heaved a great sigh of relief......alls well that ends well.

Cathy said...

" . . .but how I wish I had taken the camera along to take that picture."

My friend. You did. You did. No picture could match this account.

That paragraph beginning " The farmer, hands in pockets . . "


I'll be reading this aloud tonight.

Keith Wilson said...

You did have a camera... in your mind.
And you shared the picture you saw with all of us. We will each see your picture in our own ways, but it will be pretty much the same picture you took, then shared with us.

And a beautiful picture it was....

Jinglebob said...


Jeffro said...

Let me add to the cacophony - your beautiful descriptive writing beat any picture all to H E Double Toothpicks!

threecollie said...

Rose, thank you so much. I really wish I could have taken a picture though because it was truly amazingly lovely!

Jeff, thank you. It was so nice to have a happy ending for a change.

WW, thank you! I almost took it with me, but I was afraid if I had to help with a bad calving it would get broken

Rev. Paul, thank you, sir. The mornings are still cold (although not by your standards) but all the green and gold is lovely

Jan, thank you so much!

Linda, the best of it is, that we had given up the downer heifer, although we were still tying with her. Then last night she got up. I can't tell you my joy

Cathy, thank you! You are so sweet to me. I often think of you when I see something special out on the land.

Keith, thank you sir. I wish you could have seen it.

JB, smiles...

Jeffro, thanks, that means a lot.

threecollie said...

Joated, sorry I didn't answer you comment earlier...for some reason all yours are getting sent to my spam box. No matter HOW many times I mark them not spam, dagnabbit!