This morning we watched a colorful tanager feed on the berries
of the chokecherry out our living room window. I told the numerous robins that
perhaps they could feed elsewhere. I like them, but they’re a bit mundane, choose
another bush please.
We’re moving cattle every 10 days or so in the mountains,
which is a big switch for us. We’re following the advice we heard a smart
rancher give one day: “shorten your graze periods and lengthen your recovery
periods.” It’s stressing us in ways we didn’t anticipate and it’s not perfect,
but things seldom are. We’ve had a few pleasant overnight stays in the
mountains. Being in the high country early in the morning and late at night means spotting elk, mule deer,
sage grouse, and listening to the nighthawks boom.
I’ve enjoyed some time away from the ranch rummaging through
boxes of memorabilia with my sisters. It’s taken us years to tackle what our
grandmother and uncle left behind in their home built by my great grandparents. We hate to disturb some of the drawers
and shelves that have remained untouched since the last
occupation over 20 years ago. My uncle saved everything. I hauled box after box down the steep attic stairs one very hot day. One curious find was a large box filled with crepe paper streamers, all a faded green. Their household was
staunchly democrat and there was a stash of John Kennedy campaign materials and
articles written after his assassination. There were piles of books and magazines, and the occasional handwritten letter to keep us interested.
We have a box labeled for each branch of the family, file folders
for each individual, a box to take to the local historical society, totes for
scrapbooks to deal with later, and piles of items with some value that we need
to think about. It’s a labor of love, and with my dear sisters, what I would do
just for fun.
Summer is cruising along at warp speed. Oh, to hold on to
these evenings! We watched the July full moon, the buck moon, rise at dusk on
my birthday. We christened the new redwood deck and made merry as I tried to forget
how surprising the number on the cake was.
All of it - aging, the intoxicating days of summer, the cool breeze
coming through the windows when I can’t sleep - take on a special poignancy
when I’m immersed in the lives of my ancestors. We are the same. Especially so
since our livelihood is the land, and we cherish country living as they did. My grandma talks about beet
harvest, flood irrigating, and the first killdeer of spring as the important events
they were. An optimist, nearly every diary entry begins with, “Lovely,
lovely day.” She also wrote in a letter, “We lived through the depression and two world
wars and loved every minute of it.”
I promise today to be more like her.
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| moving heifers at home Anna and Clyde |
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| moving the herd in the mountains Tin Cup Spring Seth and Dot |
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