Prairie

Simple Flock Moves

Musing, Prairie / May 13, 2023 / By

I moved the flock from the winter pasture to the pasture showing the most promise of available grass. The dry years combined with a modest grazing rotation have wreaked havoc on certain areas of the farm while other areas continue to hold on and grow grass. I no longer carry any burden of expectation that there will ever be enough fencing in place for regenerative agriculture to happen here. There just isn’t enough man power for that amount of labour. Plus I’m now at an age where I don’t want to see more fences go up, in fact, I’d prefer that some come down. I’d prefer to see this place be wide open prairie land once more. I think that the land deserves that destiny once again.

Flock of sheep moving to new pasture

It is a simple matter to move sheep to places they want to go to and right now the ewes want to go anywhere there is grass. Nonetheless less there is always sincere enjoyment in the work of the Kelpies. My crew of Kelpies are well aged now and the eldest fellow has recently passed. I feel a deeper commitment to not taking simple flock moves for granted but appreciating them for the milestone they are.

Australian Kelpie

Winter Walking

Prairie / November 17, 2022 / By

The first arrival of cold weather coupled with the necessity of donning winter clothing always causes me to reconsider the habit of taking a walk every day. Surely I could take a break from it, except that the Kelpies would have something to say about that, and I would miss the intimate visit with the prairie landscape that only a walk can present.

Australian Kelpie on trail

Three of my kelpies are of advanced age. When I head out for a walk, the very eldest dog, who is deaf and sleeps very soundly is likely to miss that anything is happening at all. The eldest female will join us at the door, half excited for the trek about to happen, yet every time the door swings open and the other dogs pour out of it, she holds back, sniffs and gets a feel for just how cold it is. Nine times out of ten she retreats and makes her way to the office window where she watches as we walk out of the yard. The third elder still acts like an athlete and holds his own, running at the lead of the pack every morning and again in the evening.

I have been taking walks amidst the prairie land since my youth. Even though I occasionally berate the idea of having to go for a walk in the cold, upon every return from said venture, cold weather or warm, I feel spiritually and physically satisfied that I went, as do the Kelpies. There will come a day when I do not have a dog at my side to walk with or I do not take walks anymore and perhaps because of my own advancing age I wonder more often and more often now how that will be.

A Prairie Minimalist

Artwork, Prairie / September 28, 2022 / By

Through the past couple years of drought the landscape feels as though it may have shrunk a little, become more bare bones and essential. The bare nakedness is made more stark on account of it being harvest time and all the neighbouring fields are now laid bare to bake in the dry heat. Save for the stint of winter season whites the landscape has been very similar in tone these past couple years - dry and brown. The green of spring has been so brief it might just be canceled out should we head into another dry year.

Even the wildness of the place feels less than usual; I haven’t seen skunk or rabbit or badger or snake in a long time and the bird song is light and infrequent. I suspect the animals are moving toward areas where there is water.

sheep in prairie grass

There is a minimalist feeling to it; not bad, not particularly good either, just a flat knowing that this is where it’s at. On the prairie Mother Nature is taking a foray into less vibrant color and chaos.

And in terms of life lived out here, well, life has gone along with the shift of mother nature. The work of looking after sheep and dogs is minimal because there are fewer of them, or maybe I’ve just simplified the work to the point of bare essentials, I’m not sure. I do know I’ve become more direct about what to do, and then making time to get that specific task done. And I’ve changed what I expect my self to get done, and that makes life feel minimal in a healthy way. The big jobs that take days upon days to complete will happen in due time and they are no longer a frequent occurrence like they used to be.

Many smaller habits of living have also become very minimal without me noticing they were heading that way. Far fewer trips to the city, shopping only for what I need, using the library again. It is my recent photographs and the strong pull toward neutral tones in recent felted artwork that caused me to notice this undercurrent of minimalism occurring in my life.

needle felted wool art

I like the minimal - it goes with the less vibrant, less chaotic, introvert I know lives within. This undercurrent will pass on though; when Mother Nature moves on from this drought and into vibrancy again I’ll feel that pull too. And life will bring its opportunities and slips that toss me into excitement and chaos. Nonetheless I find myself feeling comforted by being in this space now and in knowing this minimalist approach will serve me down the road.