It’s probably a good thing
the air cools
and I can’t sit on the porch
comfortably,
even with blankets,
for long.
I have to move to be warm.
And so instead of early-morning in my sit-spot
I move on down the road
out into the prairie
to take in the neighborhood.
With autumn breezes,
my walk has moved from evening to morning
and I get a different view.
Instead of quieting down for the night
the prairie is waking up.
Fog hangs over the grass
before the sun appears.
A mockingbird shouts enthusiastically
from a tree top.
Larks sing sweetly
somewhere in the prairie grass.
With the first beams of sun,
a chattering flock of Cardinals
fly into the top of an evergreen.
As I make my way back home,
the sunlight
has burned through the fog.
The windmill peaks over the horizon,
the sun strikes yellowing leaves
and my heart sings.
I’ve become aware that Doe Creek is part of my life.
A friend
I’m getting to know.
She has a beautiful,
complex life,
home for much of life on the prairie.
A few days ago
we set up a long dinner table alongside her
for dozens of friends
and she brought beauty and shelter to all.
Then, two days ago
we went to a “bug picking”
through Oklahoma Conservation Commission’s Blue Thumb program.
In September,
we had taken a sample
of the invertebrates in the plants along her banks.
This week, we looked at that sample,
counting the bugs
and sending them to a scientist
to be catalogued.
The creek is like a nursery,
so the invertebrates we found were
mostly only visible under magnification.
Ann, picking out bugs from Doe Creek sample
We found baby
mayflies, dragonflies, beetles, worms, scuds (they look like tiny shrimp.)
We found big water bugs.
It was exciting to get to know the creek
more deeply, more intimately
by seeing who is raised there.
Then yesterday,
we took our monthly water sample
just below the beaver dam
and did the monthly chemical tests
to determine oxygen saturation
and pollution.
After a year of doing that,
and a winter bug sampling,
we’ll know our dear Doe Creek a little better.
Now today,
there is concern for our friend.
By mid-day,
two and a half inches of rain had fallen,
on top of the five that fell a couple of weeks ago,
and Doe Creek is out of her banks.
She’s covered entirely the area where we
dined last weekend.
Her waters are rushing
into the ditches and pastures
all across the Home Place as well.
I wonder about those nurseries along the banks.
And the beavers downstream.
But then I remember:
this is the life of a creek on the prairie -
seasons of dryness
and seasons of flooding.
And so I just stand
and watch her do what she does
as everyone
adjusts.
It was three weeks ago
that we said goodbye to Cha Cha,
an Alpaca on loan to us
from Heartland Farm
to help Mr. Darcy and Biak Bay
adapt to their new home
at Turtle Rock Farm.
They had all grown up together
and Darcy and Biak
were the first to leave
their Kansas home.
Cha Cha, an outgoing spirit,
was here for four months,
and did help the boys adjust
to their new home.
The day Cha Cha left,
Biak and Darcy
ran to the fence and cried and screamed
as Cha Cha disappeared
down the road
in the horse trailer.
These last three weeks
they have continued to grieve.
We know
because the two didn’t hang out together,
which is unusual for these herd animals.
They grazed apart from each other.
They sat apart from each other.
Darcy wouldn’t come to the barn,
as he usually did,
when Biak came for treats.
(Darcy has never eaten treats.)
But they seem to be at the end of their grief.
They are both coming to the barn.
They are grazing together
and resting in the pasture together.
And, finally,
playing together.
