My Cows

I pass the remnants of a still working farm every time I head into  town.  I leave my sub division and drive down East River Road which still has a small farm/ranch that has not been swallowed up by new homes and white fences.  In the few acres left untouched, the farmer still raises cattle.  There is a colorful mixture of cows: black, brown and white, and solid brown.   
I always give them a casual glance as I pass by checking out where they are pastured and how close they are to the road.  The farmer moves them through the fences dividing the pastures throughout the summer months so they can graze on the grass.  Sometimes they are close to the road and stand under the trees to escape the heat.

The special treat comes in the late winter when the calves suddenly appear.  Like magic there they are.  When did they arrive?  How did I miss seeing them yesterday or the day before?  Never the less the tough little babes are scattered across the field.  I never find this repetitive event boring or casual.  It is still a wonder and a fascination every year.  Life can be so frail, yet these small creatures endure wind, cold blizzards, lack of shelter and still manage to thrive.  I am the lucky participant in this struggle, for I see the ones that are healthy and strong.

I know how hard it is to be a rancher this time of year.  Wendy and Jean share their trials and stories with me.  They are not a watcher like me, but working ranchers along with their husbands.  They regret  the loss of a new born and rejoice in the survival of another.  Because of my friendship with them I understand and appreciate the winter miracle of birth even more.  As in all things of life, nothing should be taken for granted.  Perhaps those closer to the earth understand this in a deeper sense

I see the calves in my little corner of the world as a gift and a reminder to take time to appreciate what is around me and how easy it is to get caught up in the trappings of a busy and hectic world.