O' Dark-Thirty in the morning. The boss is off to McFadden's auction today, so it's early chores for the cheap help. It's a fine morning for it, just the same, out here in the owl light of the almost-night.
Mr. Blue is crowing down in the old heifer barn, his deep voice plummy as an English butler and just as authoritative. I walk Daisy to her favorite location and glance up at the heifer hill, wondering if the cows will come down before the boss leaves or if I am going to have to milk them later.
I don't mind Bama. She is a gentle old soul and used to stand in my line anyhow. I have milked her since she had her first calf.
It's Moon that daunts me, with her shoulders nearly as high as my head, and her feet that like to come my way....and the pipeline where she stands is way too high for me to reach. I dread milking her, although I have done it and will if I have to. Or maybe I can get Jade to do it for me......she doesn't usually kick him.
And as I stand there with my silly little dog, looking over the hillside in the hour before the dawn, there he is, battle flags flying, sword outflung, ready to conquer the season and bring along his army of cold.
Orion.
Yep, it's fall.
I always view Orion as a welcome sign of The Hunt, with his bow drawn and ready to fire.
ReplyDeleteI try to avoid the thought theat he also is a sign of *shudder* Winter, being as it is that he'll be around until next April.
Beautiful writing . . . it makes me long to get out of our wooded city lot and down to central Ohio (the hills of home) so that we, too . . could see mighty Orion.
ReplyDelete(Scary business about those flying hooves!)
Joated, used to love him, but the older I get the more I hate winter.
ReplyDeleteCathy, we have lots of sky for Upstate NY, and I am always looking....thanks