November 29, 2006
Last weekend’s storm never materialized despite its unanimous prediction from local weathermen, NOAA and The Weather Channel. This dry pattern at the beginning of our generally scant rainy season seems to parallel last year, thus far. Temperatures have dropped to freezing at night, mid-to-high 50s during the day. No rain in sight.
The Nevada steers are learning their new home around Lake Kaweah. Not afraid to climb or sleep on a steep hillside, they’re scattering out into ample dry feed. Quick to claim their own flake of hay, our calves are growing and pulling some of the younger cows down. As these cows stay in the same field or mountain pasture year ‘round, their old feed is getting short and they require more hay to stay in shape to raise a calf and breed back.
We put the bulls out to the cows Monday and Tuesday. With 75% of the hay we bought last summer already fed, it’s essential we keep it coming now until the grass comes. Any hopes I may have harbored of carrying some alfalfa over into next year have been forgotten. If we do get rain at this stage, the grass will be slow to grow, though generally strong.
An unnamed metaphor at the moment, the barn shrinks daily as our ranch work primarily consists of feeding. Somewhat up against it, we try to ignore the tightness and fatigue we all feel, feign a good face, grin and carry on. If we don’t get a rain in the next couple of weeks, that may change.
All part of the business of grazing and raising livestock, our dependence on rain is but one of the friction points we’ll face this grass season. Amazingly resilient, our grasses have evolved to endure unpredictable weather patterns. Likewise building faith and/or character over time, this unique dependence on rain has much to do with who we are.