Calving is in full swing and it's been piercingly cold. So cold we want to leave the bulls out a little longer this next breeding season to bypass the worst of the weather next year.
I heard my first red-wing blackbird on the 18th. We were walking the cows home and as the herd crossed the hand-built bridge across the slough, I heard the welcome call. Next to the bridge is an elm tree that Gary had protected as a seedling by putting an upright concrete culvert around it. The culvert is broken now so the tree is free to grow big and strong. Good thing, for that bird needed a perch. It’s always a happy affair to hear the first red-wing every spring.
We spotted six bald eagles hanging around the calving grounds. They perch in the tall willows or cottonwoods and watch for the “after birth,” the placenta, which is dropped soon after the calf is born. As long as they stay away from the baby calves, we’re good with contributing to the eagles' health as the placenta is rich in nutrients. Cows will eat the after birth as well, but some don’t, hence the raptor presence. Once spring arrives, and the return of other foodstuffs, the eagles dissipate.
Not very many of the eagles actually have the distinctive white head. We read that it takes 4-5 years before the adult birds acquire the white headed plumage; the juveniles have dark heads and splotchy breasts. Their high-pitched chipping call, not at all what you would expect from this mighty bird, carries readily across the pasture.
I’ve been tending the old calving barn every morning. It’s the best job on the ranch this time of year. It’s quiet. You get to put your hands on calves. It’s slightly warmer than outside. And you can slip in and out of the “warm room," or the "technology lab” as the sign on the door says, to get warm. I help babies suck that need a hand, prepare a bottle for the orphan, carry hay to a cow or two that stay for longer than a few hours, but mostly I clean up after them when they leave. The barn is old-timey, nothing modern about it at all, but it’s functional.
And when the sun comes through the wall slats in the morning, and steam from the cows’ breath is illuminated in the bars of sunshine, it’s nigh on artsy.
