cow butts

hay is for cows

since the herd is holding a zone, as opposed to rotating, i have taken to shoveling up some of their excess manure for use as a soil amendment.  what amazes me, is the fact that our cows—who are still on pasture, with plenty of grass to roam—generate enough excrement for a pile up to appear noticeable after just a few days of eating in the same place (fifty lbs a day/cow).

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raindrops keep falling on my head

for the first time in what feels like forever a substantial rain has fallen.  in mid summer it seemed like the rain would never stop, and then just in time to get what we wished for, it hasn’t rained since.

bed rows at the vegetable farm are cracked over and crusty.  pork chop hill has a dust cloud swirling over head.  and the grass.  well, let’s just call it thirsty.

all day today, the crack pop of thunder and the drip drap of rain lulled the town to a hushed pace—singing lullabies with the wind and painting the sky a heavy grey.

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the good doctor

sometimes, i catch dr. kimble at the very edge of a paddock—lying inches below thousands of volts of electricity, toes over the line, eyeing the horizon—plotting another great escape.  

he is not to be trusted.

walking out to the cows, a narration

walking out to the cows, a narration