Fall is quiet once the calves are weaned. We separated the cows from the calves and trucked the youngsters home to green stockpiled feed. After a few days of missing mom, they’re lounging around in the sunshine. They seem content with their new-found independence but glad to be in good company.
We gave them their protective shots this week and a dose of liquid parasiticide. Each calf is weighed and the pounds recorded next to their Mom’s unique numbered I.D. What a pleasure it is to watch their healthy, stout bodies go across the scale.
We vaccinated the cows as well and trailed them clear up to our highest elevation pasture. They’ll spend a few glorious weeks on cured-off native grasses, the best of fall feed. Mark and I spent one day with them and I can’t wait to get back up, so beautiful.
Every day is a bonus now. Any time it could turn off cold and wintery so we’re busily checking off items on Mark’s to-do list that have been put off until now. The ridge at Brush Creek needs a new fence, the cabin needs more oil, and the horse corral needs repaired. And that’s just for starters.
The irrigation water has lost its summer time frenzy so Mark can afford a few more minutes in bed each morning. The remaining streams are lazy and crystal clear with a few yellow leaves drifting by. I stood along the canal that runs along the west side of our property and watched the horses gather up fallen leaves under the cottonwoods. It’s always fun to watch animals eat and it’s surprising what they sometimes consume.
If you get the chance, or rather make the chance, take a few minutes to sit under a tree and listen for a falling leaf. It makes the most delicate of rustles, well worth the wait.
|Sly, Mark's mount for the day|
|my walking route along Kimball Road|