Cow Time
On Tuesday it was cats. On Friday it was cows. Love is in the air. Or, more precisely, a bull is in the pasture. I guess something is in the air because there is a lot of sniffing. They were up by the house yesterday, all sort of casual, hanging around letting the kids play. No one really talking, everyone eating grass and lying about, except for the big rust colored bull. He simply stood there chewing, looking around, being bullish.
Eventually, he and one of the heifers found some quiet time and stood there side-by-side, getting to know one another, I guess. There have been a lot of bulls in the pasture over the years, and for some reason I’ve never paid close attention to their mating rituals. I did see a buck and a doe getting busy one winter, in the trees down the pasture from our house. But the cattle must have other locations that get their juices flowing. All I know is pretty soon the heifers will plump up, and then we’ll have calves. They’re always fun, skittish, but curious. Then they’ll disappear and the cycle will start again.
Along with watching cattle, I also watched people yesterday as we all sat around and listened to a friend sing his fine songs for us. I joined a club while I was at it. A wine club. It’s a big step for me because I typically eschew clubs. But a lot of my friends are in this one and its just down the road from my house. I’ve also discovered that having wine around is a little like setting out a bird feeder, you can attract some nice people with it, especially if you add a little cheese and smile occasionally.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale