Rambles In Sand

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is BULL

This is dry land. Some crop land, a lot of pasture and hay with patches of brush. On prairie soil maps the soil in this area is classified as “dune sand” – not much worry about getting stuck in mud after a rain. Plus it’s rather saline, not suitable for a lot of trees and shrubs.

Buffalo berry, wild sagebrush, some wild rose bushes and chokecherries are the natives here. Silver Buffalo Berry (shepherdia argentea) is a very hardy, slow growing shrub found around sloughs, in coulees, and on light soils across the prairies. Buffalo berries, like chokecherries, are food for birds. The shrub is blessed with natural deterrent: deer won’t eat silver-leafed bushes and cattle seem to leave it alone, too. It can handle this alkali soil so it survives here. Ditto with sagebrush (artemisia tridentata)

As I said, we have a lot of pasture and cattle. There are a few dairies so we see some Holsteins, but mainly black Angus beef cattle. Some farmers have a mottled mix and I’ve seen the odd animal with long horns, indicating some Texas ancestry. Pasture grass is not lush here; beef cattle growers need to have a fair number of acres per animal and supplement with hay in winter & spring. We often see round hay bales being transported on flatbed trailers or sitting in neat rows in fields.

In spring and early summer we’ll see a few bulls in a pasture by themselves, or even one lone bull grazing or lazing. Contented or bored – one never knows. In early July they’ll be called upon to do their duty again, so calves will be born in April. Obviously calves have a much better chance of survival if the worst of winter is past. Calving is a hectic time for local ranchers, who must be near at hand, checking cattle frequently, to be sure no complications develop that will cost them a calf.

Light as it is, in the Dirty Thirties this soil really blew. Wannabe homesteaders picked a 160-acre quarter section at some govt office–usually the Land Titles Office in Winnipeg. Did the homesteader threw a dart at the huge map there? Most of them had no clue what they were getting and no idea how to farm this dry country.

However, they got the land and it was their business to farm it, until people realized – and the govt finally admitted – that some land may be open prairie, easy enough to plow, but NOT suitable for constant cultivation. And for sure not deep plowing. After the 1930s the govt bought back huge chunks of land in this area and designated it as community pasture. So it is to this day. From time to time we see mini cattle drives down our road, moving cows from the community pasture just east of us to pastures just west of us.

Inspired by today’s prompt, I hope my little ramble has given you a little picture of what we see in our area.

mission accomplished
Old Angus sits in the shade
bull dozer

🙂

Ode To A Camel

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning was SAND.

Image: Herbert Bieser — Pixabay

Well, Bobby Burns once wrote an ode to a Mouse, to a Louse, and even an Address to a Haggis. So why not to a Camel?

Fellow Traveller

the miles you must go
the grit in your teeth
the sand always pulling
at weary splayed feet

what you’d give for a drink
an oasis of calm
in this bleak weary land
for your spirit a balm

a place to unload
those burdens that press
and sit yourself down
for refreshing and rest

like you, poor old camel
I constantly weave
toward the night coming
the promised reprieve

ahhh...

Image: LoggaWiggler — Pixabay

A New Plan

Good evening, dear readers. It has been my habit to turn on my computer as soon as I get up. First off I check the daily prompts and notifications from blogs I follow. For some reason “just a quick peek” at incoming e-mails ends up taking a good part of my morning. Who’d have guessed?

My energy level isn’t really high these days so, in order to finish my work-in-progress and do some serious housecleaning, I’m trying a new daily plan this coming week. I’ve already scheduled some posts for 8 or 8:30 am but I’m going to leave my internet alone until evening. Going online first thing will be a tough habit to break. Will I succeed or won’t I? But I fear unless I make some drastic change, my important writing may never get finished.

Now for some things more interesting than work habits. It may be -21 C as I type this, and the predicted high tomorrow is -22 C, but we can always dream of spring.

Cherry Trees

Glorious cherry trees!
Blossoms burst  forth in spring
to animate the bees,
inspire a thousand poets,
intoxicate the breeze.
Where would this old world be
without those cherry trees?

Interesting nature note from our yard:
I often toss organic kitchen trash like peelings, limp greens, carrots and such, into the poplar trees on the west side of our driveway. After all, these bits are biodegradable. Yesterday I tossed a sweet potato well past its prime — and flushed out a white rabbit. It didn’t flee in terror, rather hopped into the nearby field and seemed to be waiting. I wonder if this bunny has been dining on the greens I toss?

Canadian rabbit: David Mark — Pixabay

Hope is a Thing With Mice

Monday Morning Musing

Good morning everyone. Time for a brief update and maybe a few haiku. Last night I was reading a book about the early masters of haiku. According to an old legend one of them, Ihara Saikaku (1642-1693) wrote 23,500 verses in a day. Can you imagine writing almost a thousand verses in an hour – using Japanese characters? Legend is a wonderful thing.

Would any of those be of sterling quality? (STERLING being the Ragtag Daily Prompt word this morning.) I was inspired to do a few myself, but for sure mine aren’t very sterling. It’s not hard to dash off words, but it takes me time to write something that will even make sense.

winter nipping
a mouse squeezes into the warmth
heaven or hell
?

When the winds blow cold and there’s a nip in the air, hopeful mice are wont to creep into houses, hoping to find a cozy home for the winter months, hopefully with a food source not too far away–like a bowl of cat food on the floor. Last Friday I was sitting in my recliner reading, while my black cat dozed contentedly on my lap. Glancing up, I spotted one such hopeful mouse creep out from under our wood stove sitting in the corner of our living room. We have poison set out, but this must be a clever mouse.

brave mouse scurries
under my wood stove
wee Napoleon.

“Mouse, Angus! Mouse,” I screeched, and the mouse quickly disappeared. Angus opened his eyes and gave me a “What are you on about?” look. It didn’t take long, though, before both of our cats caught on about those little mouse feet scrabbling on the stones. I’ve moved the cat food elsewhere and our cats spend time by the wood stove these days, hoping for a Waterloo.

Fresh Snow

Winds are definitely whipping and winter is nipping today. After a mild spell most of last week, the temp dropped yesterday evening and a north wind picked up. Snowflakes were falling by the time we left church, just before 9 pm, and before long we had the makings of a storm. Fine flakes blew through the air all night; we’ve a nice amount this morning and more is falling as I write this.

“Hope is a thing with feathers…” In this case sparrows hoping for a few grains have found a bare spot on our driveway somewhat out of the wind. Our sidewalk is blown in ankle-deep, I learned as I waded out a bit ago to scatter seed for them.

lame magpie
bullied by his own finds peace

among the sparrows

Poetry Reading

“Hope is a Thing With Feathers,” the famous poem by Angie Dickinson, was one of the verses read at our Poetry night Saturday evening. I was hoping for a bit larger crowd but, apart from the readers and their partners, only five others attended. Hopefully next time… Renaming it “Literary Night” might draw more interest. I read a mixture of my own poems and short stories myself.

Click here to read one of them.

So Tomorrow Will Be Twitter Tuesday?

Now that Black Friday sales are basically done, I received half a dozen ads this morning telling me that today is Cyber Monday. Can anyone explain that? No, never mind…

I’m hoping this will be a better week for me. I was pretty wiped out last week, not sick but very weary. Energy level 2/10 kind of thing. I suspect my white cell count is on the rise, but we’ll see how this week goes. Hope is a thing with energy… 🙂 I’ve another phone visit with my oncologist Dec 12, which should give me a better idea how things stand.

Speaking of energy, it’s our youngest grandson’s 12th birthday today.

Image: Dessie Designs — Pixabay

Haiku Views 4

splashes of rain
on the autumn wind
sad story sniffles
faintly the moon
shows up before sundown
sibling rivalry
lost on country roads
new territory to explore
GPS complains
discarded antlers
one last hard knock
sheds the load*

*In these parts, discarded deer antlers are called sheds, and there are some people who go around gathering them for decorations or crafts. Gathering sheds you’re apt to get lost on country roads. 🙂