The New Boss

And it’s April 1st already. All ready? Oh boy. Here we go! Again. Spewing forth. I hope we don’t get fooled again.

I am glad April is coming in like a lamb. A cold lamb but a calm one. The way the winds blew yesterday I doubt if anything not tied down is where we left it. If not for the fence behind the wind break we wouldn’t have garbage can lids. We have cats so we need lids if we’re going to use the garbage cans. Which you have to do on days like yesterday when the high winds make burning any refuse a dangerous proposition. Even if there’s a burn barrel or pit available. Not enough new green grass but plenty of last year’s old dead grass to easily catch burning and spread like wild fire. The flames a lickin’

There seems to be grass enough to lead my cows astray. The amount of hay consumed per day has really gone down as the temps have warmed up. I know it takes less fuel to keep warm in the spring than in the winter. That’s factored in. This goes beyond that. It happens every year in April. The cattle are walking away from the uneaten hay and roaming the fields looking for anything not hay. I think after a long windy cold winter they feel restless plus they’re tired of eating the same old prairie hay they’ve had since January when the alfalfa/prairie hay mixture ran out. Cornstalks. Corn husks. Cobs and scattered kernels, even old weeds and grasses. Anything but hay. They like go hide to have their new baby calves also. Another spring right of passage. Old bos meet the new bos. Lick it clean.

You’ll notice I said not enough new green grass. We’ve had a few warm days. There is new green grass. But only just barely. A kind of green tint to the long brown grass. That is, it’s been brown a long time. The old brown grass is actually pretty short around these buildings. What wasn’t grazed down before winter has been creep feed all winter for the smaller calves that slip under the hot wire. I see the robins easily bobbing along  poking here and there in the grass. They never seem to come up with anything in their beaks however. Then I notice a branch lowering from the weight of a squirrel that only just landed on it. Lickitty split.

The brown squirrel is flitting around on the branch seemingly licking the bark here and there. It goes up to tiny broken branches and seems to chew and lick on the frayed ends. I start looking closer and can see little drops of fluid beading up into drops here and there on the tree. The tree in question is a Silver Maple. I wonder if this squirrel and these robins aren’t busy lapping up the nectar of this Maple tree. Who needs a tap and bucket? Who needs to reduce it down with fire? These creatures have learned to take it like it is. One sweet lick at a time. They’ve taken tree loving to a whole new level. Lick it up.

It’s only right now!

Cc

 

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