Rural Routes, Blog Version

We moved the cattle today from one pasture to another. They’re not our cattle any more, although all but two of the cows originally belonged to us.

We are renting our pasture land to the same rancher who bought our cattle last winter. The first load to arrive this spring included those animals: the cows with their new calves and the bull to keep them company. We feel like grandparents whose grandchildren have come home for a summer visit. We get the fun part, evening rides to check on cows and calves, moving them from one pasture to the next as grass is eaten. Then we will send them home in the fall for others to worry about winter chores and calving duties.

I think the cows recognize this place. The move this morning was without incident. They came to the gate when they heard the vehicles, moved down the road and turned right into the next pasture as if they had done it dozens of times before. Except for those two outsider cows, they had.

A familiar routine. Parking vehicles across the road to the east and west to stop the cattle from going in those directions. Calling the cows to the gate. Cows, cows, cows, cows. Come cows. Someone ahead of them, someone behind them. We have done this dozens of times ourselves.

I found cowslips along the edge of the road. My father-in-law used to say that when the cowslips were blooming, the pastures were ready.

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A black and white female cat named Cleo spends a lot of time on our sundeck these days. Cleo is a barn cat but she seems to have forgotten where the barn is.

Every morning when I walk out to the kitchen, she is on the deck waiting to be fed. She leaves for a few hours, then returns to spend the afternoon stretched out in the sunshine. The barbecue provides shade if she needs it. These days she is heavily pregnant and we wonder when and where she will have the kittens.

The bowl of cat food attracts blackbirds which are capable of emptying it in just a few hours if given the chance. Thieves by nature, I think. A male lands on the deck and pretends to be uninterested in food, nonchalant but nonetheless watchful. Suddenly the bird darts toward the bowl, grabs a morsel in its beak and flies away.

Meanwhile the hummingbirds whirr past on their way to the feeder hanging under the eave.

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So we have two black and white Border collies and one black and white cat. And just this morning I watched a black and white skunk cross the yard. We are colour co-ordinated.

The dogs paid no attention to the skunk. They are old and wise and learned that lesson long ago.

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Small things, but not unimportant, at least not to me. They form the pattern of my life in these days leading to the summer solstice.

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