Monarchs and Moons

As nature sizes up her production year, we look to this year’s calf crop. The grass has been abundant, surprisingly so with the cold, dry start we had to the growing season. The calves look good – what we call “bloomy” in ranch lingo. It means an animal that is in good fleshy condition, with bright eyes and a healthy countenance. It fits doesn’t it?

Each cool morning, each warm day, we hold our breath. Country folk and city folk alike, we all cherish each golden September day. The phrase, "it's like butter" comes to mind. Like a firm yet tender carrot fresh from the garden, a tepid shower following a blistering hot workday, that first creamy cup of coffee of a morning -  you know, perfect.    

There's a heavy murmur in the afternoon sun. Late season pollinators are feeding on wild aster, gray rabbit brush, goldenrod and curly cup gumweed. The rush is on to gather up what they need for whatever awaits them as the season changes. Some, like the monarch butterfly, have a long journey ahead. I saw one as I was picking beans in the garden. He was flitting back and forth on the zinnias. “Hurry!” I said. ”No time to lose, this weather can’t last much longer.”

In my one woman quest to help the environment, I let the lawn grass grow this year. I only mowed it once in June, and then Mark let the horses graze it this week. Milkweed plants edge the lawn and some new plants ventured into previous mowing territory. Their fresh leaves attracted butterflies and I found several baby caterpillars just barely out of the egg. Leah found one too, put it in a jar, and carefully tended it through the chrysalis and butterfly metamorphosis stages. I’m sure little Emma was part of the impetus for the project. I’m tickled they both got that experience. It’s rare today.

Mark and I have been watching the moon this month. I tried to find it every day, behind clouds, behind smoke, and in odd positions in the sky whenever I remembered to look. This morning it was a tiny crescent, and at 6:00 am was hanging above the horizon, so lovely in the rosy smudge of a new day. Tomorrow is the new moon, with no illumination from the sun because the earth is blocking it. The sun, the moon, and the earth will all be lined up. We’re still going to try to see it. We’ll know it’s there anyway.

The wonder of nature is all around us. Our kids like to climb mountains, ski, go fly-fishing and mountain bike, all the while enjoying the immersion in the natural environment. Though I keep saying I want to pursue those kinds of activities, I’m pretty much enthralled with my own space here at home on the ranch. Adventure awaits us every day if we look close enough.  

The black spot on the wing vein shows it's a male

Emma loves green beans

4-horsepower "riding" lawn mowers

    

September Curriculum

It’s been hot, so hot. But there was a sea change in the weather and I was surprised to see a whisper of frost on the cucumber vines this morning. As it often does, a strong wind preceded the transition.

The harvest moon rises tonight. I’ve made a pledge to find the moon every day in September. Easy peasy so far since it’s been waxing and hanging in the east late in the day. Not so easy as it wanes to a new moon on the 25^th and starts back as it orbits the earth. My grandmother and her mother lived together on an Idaho family ranch. They used to compete with one another to see the new moon. They made their living on the land, yes, but the moon story tells me how much they loved the natural world.

It’s state fair time. There’s the carnival rides, the food booths, and shops of every kind selling everything from fluorescent jewelry to hot tubs. There’s quilting, cake decorating and 4-H projects galore. 

One of the biggest attractions is the pony rides and farm animal petting zoo set up in the Idaho Farm Bureau corner. I talked to the proprietor who drives a semi all the way from Arkansas with an assortment of goats, milk cows, ponies, beef cows, sheep, pigs, chicks, etc. to participate in events allowing children (and adults) to pet and feed and groom the animals. 

As animal agriculture is increasingly seen as producing unhealthy food, inhumane, and a contributor to climate change, I see her job as ever more important. We ranchers can talk a blue streak, but it becomes real when it's hands on. The animals are healthy and well cared for. Signs hung along the pens teach about milking, reproduction, etc. And unless kids want to feed the animals, it's entirely free to walk through the pens. 

We talked about the natural cycle these animals are a part of. From plants to meat and milk and manure to be used by the next round of life. We talked about Joe, the zebu bull, from an Indian breed of humped cattle, and how his "job" is to stand for petting, for teaching. 

We agreed that kids are naturally drawn to the animals and that children need to learn about the relationship man has had with domesticated animals - the partnership - for thousands of years. The owner said she’d like to retire but can’t find anyone to replace her that has the heart for it. As she explained this to me, her hand reached to her left chest. 

I feel her pain. It’s a lot of work to care for animals day after day after day. And the world offers easier, more reliable and better paid careers. I wished her well and said I’d come see her next year.