Mark and I go to the heifers every day first thing. We drive through Anna and Cole’s yard to get to the cattle. Yesterday I had to be gone so Anna bundled up baby Lou and came out to help Mark. She flaked off the hay and Lou fell asleep in Mark’s arms as he was driving. I’ve had this picture in my head for a while now and it’s a “pinch me” affair to grasp that it’s real.
It was minus 11 degrees this morning. I’m not complaining, ranchers east of us have it much worse. It’s hard enough to keep water troughs open and equipment operating at these temperatures, but 40-50 degrees below zero? Mark has taken to reading the weather forecast out loud to me. It’s understandable, the ranch lives and dies by nature's whims.
To add to the difficulties, the water trough at the steer calves went dry. This is an emergency because after they eat they head for a drink. Cattle panic without water and pile and shove against each other when competing at the trough. Seems counterintuitive in this frigid weather, but a good drink is critical for keeping the cattle healthy under weather stress of any kind. Seth got them watered at another source and it took all day to get the trough up and going again. Mark came in at dusk very relieved.
Large numbers of elk are hanging around the neighborhood. A long line went past us as we were feeding in below zero temperatures. There were maybe 150 head, and as they walked past single file and headed for the river toward the rising sun, each animal had a swirl of steam emanating from them. They are majestic animals and we love seeing them, but there’s too many and seeing them grow dependent on agriculture lands is disturbing. They can ruin haystacks and graze out stockpiled feed saved for grazing cattle. We talked to an officer with Idaho Fish and Game and he said it's not that they don’t have feed in the mountains, it’s just easier pickings down in the valley. A rancher who lives in the foothills thinks the snowmachiners are pushing the herds down out of the high country. Another disturbing thought.
My holiday feels a little subdued this year. I love the lights, the evergreen wreaths on every door, and I enjoy playing piano from my old easy holiday books worn with time. But frankly, life is too serious to be jolly for any extended period of time! The holiday makes one think of people we’ve lost and brings the passage of time close in. There is much grief and brokenness in the world.
But, oh the gratitude that overwhelms us every day. The natural world is breathtaking in her winter coat. Our grandkids keep us laughing and what a joy they are. Emma wants to listen to the little record player we get out this time of year. Frequently she wants a “diffwnt” song than the one that’s playing. She and Freya dance side by side to the music. And Lou just smiles at everyone and everything.
From me, and from Mark who suggested the title to this essay, we wish you peace and calm. A warm bed, enough food, a friendly conversation. And perhaps the most precious gift of all, faith in the future.
