Common Sense and Natural Forces

There is more than one way to deal with a water gap.  We had a neighbor that recognized nature's way of removing them by utilizing natural materials to fill them.  You can see the remains of an ancient barbed wire fence in the photo and a nearly new post on the left, but the gap is blocked by tree limbs that will be washed away when the next flood comes.  When that occurred, he simply came back after the waters receded and replaced them with more limbs.

Most people approach a water gap as a way to pit themselves against nature.  The idea is to construct something that will withstand the forces of the water and bend it to their will.  They use bull wire panels that will swing upward as the waters rise, or perhaps even anchor them to the banks in a way that allows smaller debris to pass through while catching the larger pieces.  Eventually, they always wash out, or are otherwise destroyed in the floods.

Working with nature seems to be the best way.  It is something we should do in many areas.  Instead, it is man's way to attempt to tame it.  We build our buildings and streets, we change the landscape with heavy equipment and we suffer the consequences with flooding and devastation.

Many agricultural practices also take an approach that doesn't necessarily work with nature, but seeks to "overcome" natural forces through artificial means.  We do this with fertilizers and chemicals and plows that re-shape the land into our "image" of what is necessary to produce food.  Historically, such practices resulted in catastrophic loss through flooding, or drought-fueled wind storms.

Many today are taking more conservation-conscious approaches that disturb the soil less and utilize natural forces to manage the land.  In livestock production it is seen in rotational grazing systems based on native forage species -- sometimes in intensive rotational grazing that mimics the pattern of native ungulates such as American Bison.  In farming we are seeing a switch to less soil-disturbing methods such as low-till, or no-till cultivation.  We see the use of cover crops and more drought-tolerant species.

We are currently seeing another form of the devastating impacts of man's attempts to change the natural systems in the California wildfires.  Failure to allow periodic low-impact fires to clear brush and undergrowth has created a tremendous fuel load in those forests.  Crossing those brush-covered hills with electrical lines is a perfect setup for the fires which are raging there now.  Just like in the water gap shown in the image at the top of this post, nature will cross man's artificial boundaries at a whim.

They need to control the brush with goats, or controlled burns.  They need to bury their power transmission lines.  They need to stop building on erosive slopes.  They need to understand that nature will have her way in spite of the billions of dollars they spend attempting to prevent it.  Perhaps what is needed most is some common sense, like our neighbor used by stopping the water gap with limbs, but we are talking about California....

Legacy

The things we allow to take root in our lives

Shape the landscape of our future.

Plant wisely.

Weed carefully.

Cultivate that which will bring

Peace and contentment

In your waning years

And in the lives of those

Who are our legacy.

Morning Rising

Hazy, silent morning

With the mist hanging,

Muting,

Obscuring

The distant line of trees

In enveloping softness,

Holding,

Filtering

The first rays of light

In spreading pinkish hues

Diffusing,

Morphing

The stillness of night

Into the vibrancy of day.

Diversity, Weakness and Business

We ran across this big boy yesterday and since he posed for me, I had to take a picture.  He seems to be frowning a bit, perhaps because I was an unknown intruder in his domain, but he seemed gentle enough.  I kept adequate distance between us, however, simply because his temperament was also an unknown.  The "zoom" function is an incredible invention!

Being married to a Realtor has its perks because occasionally a new property will come on the market which she thinks should be investigated.  That is how we happened to run across this hombre; we were out looking at a piece of property.

I'm not a Brahman cattle guy by any stretch, however, they intrigue me.  They have made a tremendous contribution to the U.S. cattle industry by adding a level of heat and insect tolerance through their genetics that is a valuable attribute in the Southeastern part of the country.  I stopped by a friend's place the other day who also raises Brahman cattle; they were licking the flies off of each other.  That isn't a behavior I have ever noted in English or Continental type cattle.  It was definitely something different, but perhaps it is part of why they are more insect tolerant.

It is easy to become focused on certain types of cattle that produce the product most desired by consumers while forgetting the many steps it took to get us to that point.  In that "forgetting" is a great loss, because we continually select for a narrow group of characteristics and often "breed out" things that are just as important.  Where I'm heading with this is that diversity is a good thing.

I have observed similar behavior in business.  Small organizations have a tendency to hire employees that are "most like" those already part of the team.  Often, it allows them to become very proficient at a specific task, but tends to prevent their growth over time.  Focus can be good, but it can also be limiting in such a way that opportunities are frequently missed.

Large organizations typically fall into two categories; just like the small ones described above, or so focused on diversity they fail to hire competency.  That second type is what gives a bad name to diversity.

The best approach to hiring is simply to do a self-evaluation prior to establishing the criteria for hiring.  That inward look is to determine strengths and weaknesses of the organization so that the job description for an open position can be shaped to hire a candidate that "checks the boxes" which overcome the weaknesses rather than simply to reinforce the strengths by being "most like us."

It is difficult for many in management to hire based on covering their own weaknesses.  It is an ego thing and it is not easy to overcome the fear that the new hire will outshine themselves.  Admitting you have weaknesses is not a behavior that is encouraged.  Think back to some of my previous posts regarding genetic programming for survival -- we are programmed to hide our weaknesses rather than to expose them.

Building a successful organization that is equipped for growth requires a willingness to constantly examine and evaluate areas of strength and weakness.  We go to a doctor for a physical exam to look for signs of disease; we should perform similar tasks on our businesses -- perhaps by utilizing outside expertise.

Diversity is a good thing.  It is the way we can improve and grow, but it must be done intentionally as a tool to overcome internal weakness, not simply as an exercise in "political correctness." 

Salvation

As the day faded

I looked into the glassy surface

And saw there, within the growing darkness,

A light

Rising,

Defying the reflection

Of gnarled fingers

Clawing upward,

Grasping,

Yearning,

Reaching

For salvation.

"...for 'Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.'" -- Romans 10:13

A Chuckwagon and a Stew Contest

There are few things that draw attention faster than a chuckwagon.  This authentically restored wagon belongs to some good friends of ours who know how to make you feel you have stepped back in time to the cattle drives.  This weekend it is parked at the Hopkins County, Texas, world famous stew cook off.  This is the 50th anniversary of the event and our friends usually take home the Grand Prize.

The rig utilizes a large canvas "fly" that covers the food preparation area and provides room for some seating.  It is a cool and rainy year, so additional "drops" which create a wall along the north side were hung to keep the rain out.  Even the stakes for the fly are hand cut Bois d'arc reinforced with rawhide for extra strength.  The woven bottom chairs and wagon-slat tables are also authentic.

Ignore the plastic trash can and bag of charcoal and focus on the chuck box which has a foldout work table as well as storage boxes and trays.  On the table in the foreground, the box is full of handmade from Mesquite, wooden utensils, including ladles, spatulas, stirring paddles, serving spoons and scoops for flour and sugar.  The keg at bottom right contains the sourdough starter which is used for the bread which includes loaves as well as Dutch Oven biscuits.

Everything is cooked in cast iron.  The firebox is used to build a large bed of coals which are then placed on and under the Dutch Ovens and as a source of heat for the coffee pots and the cauldron of beans you see cooking.

The Dutch Ovens sit over a bed of hot coals and have additional coals on top to create even heating.  These contain potatoes and onions while others contain Beef Brisket and still others are used for Cobblers.

The contents of each oven are periodically checked to ascertain readiness.  Everything is timed to come out to perfection at just the right moment.

Although you can barely see it for the steam, this is one of the Briskets.

Here the brisket is being sliced for serving.  The potatoes and onions are in the foreground and in the top right corner is the cauldron of beans and pork sausage.

It's hard to beat the taste of properly prepared Brisket.  Notice the "bark" along one edge.

Here is a view of the steaming cauldron of beans and sausage.  There was quite a line ready to be served by the time the meal was ready.

Of course, the meal wouldn't be complete without Dewberry Cobbler made in the Dutch Ovens from locally picked wild Dewberries.

The only thing that might have made the meal any better would be some Blue Bell Ice Cream to go on top of the cobbler.  Although it is thoroughly Texan, it just wasn't around when the wagons followed the herds to market.

Chuckwagons weren't typically seen in this part of Texas back in the late 1800's, but this one adds a real sense of that period to the annual Stew event.  It's a lot of work, but it is a labor filled with joy and a love of the authentic cowboy lifestyle of long ago which is still practiced on many ranches in the western states.

Resolving Images

I looked

And the image was true.

Shaken,

The ripples blurred

That which had been clear

Into something

Obscure.

My sense

Of purpose which drove me

Dissolved.

The world changed

Into one that lacked direction.

I hesitated,

Confused.

In faith

I stepped into the future

Boldly.

With decision, pathways

Resumed their focus around me

And peace

Returned.

One In Every Crowd

It seems there's one in every crowd;

They make their presence known

By constant braying long and loud

And won't leave you alone.

You're just minding your own business

And they come running up,

Not for some act of kindness

Or, to fill an empty cup;

They're there with an opinion

About most everything

And act like you're a minion

To some evil king.

I'd like to take them to the side

And maybe beat some sense

Into their mangy hide

But, I expect they are too dense.

Instead, politely, I decline

To listen to their sass

As they keep on with their braying

The noisy little #$%#$%#$%!

A Little Trail History

The period just after the "War of Northern Aggression" was a tumultuous one.  The cattle of central and southern Texas had multiplied and gone wild while most of the adult male population was serving the Confederate cause in states far to the east.  Without fences, the animals had spread into the rugged Edwards Plateau region to the west of the primary settlements where ownership was questionable.  The opportunity to gather some of the unbranded stock and send it to northern and eastern markets allowed many entrepreneurial types to establish empires that last even today.

The National Road which connected the old, yet fast-growing village of San Antonio to the fledgling community of Dallas and further points, offered a guideline for herds heading north and east toward the railroads which were slowly making their way west across the plains after the war.  Missouri was the obvious choice and a few small bunches of cattle had been driven across The Territory by way of Fort Towson to Fort Smith, Arkansas, on the old Military Road and then up through Missouri as far as Saint Louis.

Because of the fear of Texas Fever, the good folks in Missouri soon refused to allow the Texas cattle into their state and a more direct route up the Shawnee Trail became the favored passage north. It connected to the National Road where it crossed the Red River north of Dallas and headed toward Fort Gibson and Baxter Springs before following the eastern edge of Kansas to the stockyards in Kansas City where eager buyers awaited.  It was 1865 before Jesse Chisholm, a long-time half-breed trader, established a wagon road from near the site of present-day Oklahoma City northward toward Council Grove and Fort Leavenworth in Kansas.

Much like the highways of today, the cattle were driven up various connecting trails that led in the general direction of their destination.  Those trails were a bit "fuzzy" because the routes varied slightly, depending on available grass and water.  Modern highways often follow the same general trails.  It is interesting to me to think about those cattle drives and the hazards they faced any time I travel those highways which I know followed their paths across the plains.

A Cold and Windy Winter in the Forecast

Once again, it is that time of year when the Persimmons ripen and the weather forecasters come out of hiding for missing their forecasts.  With nature, herself, providing the necessary prognostication, formal training is out the window and all that is needed is a sharp knife to know what kind of winter to expect.

There are several different varieties of wild Persimmons that call Texas home.  I believe this is the Common, or Eastern Persimmon (Diospyros virginiana L.).  The fruit is slightly smaller than a golf ball and very astringent until "mushy" ripe.  The woods -- especially along the edges of open areas -- are full of them.  Birds and other wildlife distribute the seeds which must pass through the alimentary canal in order to germinate.

The fruit contains several seeds and you sometimes find those seeds in piles where some larger animal, such as a feral hog, made a meal of the fruit and left a deposit to be washed by the rains until nothing but the seeds remain.

I sliced open three of the seeds to see if the forecast was consistent.  You can see the results above.

Folklore says that the shape of the kernel inside the seed is an indicator of the type of winter to expect.  A fork indicates a mild winter whereas a spoon indicates heavy snows.  The seeds this year are in the knife configuration which predict frigid winds that will cut like a blade.  It looks like we are in for a cold and windy winter.

Last year we had a "spoon" shape and winter was extremely wet.  Given the fact that we are in an area where it usually isn't cold enough to snow I have to say the forecast was on-the-money.  I'm betting it will be a dry and colder-than-normal winter here this year.

A Beautiful Invader

Through numerous Spring hikes in the woods over the last few years I have noticed a handful of beautiful flowering trees.  For some time I have been trying to figure out what they were.  A couple of weeks ago we were walking through an area where we rarely visit due to its inaccessibility and came across the tree in the image above.  Upon doing some research, I found it is a wild pear tree, or Callery Pear (Pyrus calleryana) which is native to China and Vietnam.

So, how did a species native to the other side of the world end up in the woods of Northeast Texas?  It is a "cropout" or, native stock from which the Bradford Pear, which is so common as an ornamental, descended.  It is an invasive species that is now becoming established in many parts of the country.

It is likely that birds are the culprit for spreading these trees into the environment of this part of the world.  The fruit provides food for them in the fall and after passing through the alimentary canal, the seeds are left across the countryside in a pile of nitrogen-rich fertilizer where they can germinate and grow.

I enjoy seeing flowering trees in the woods but, would prefer they be native to the landscape.  It may be that this is a case where the invasive species is ultimately beneficial, but it is just one more instance of unintended consequences.

Air Show Time!

Yesterday was the first day of the Bell Fort Worth Alliance Air Show.  If you are in the area, you might still have time to go see it today.  It is only the second time I've ever attended an air show, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The lineup this year included the U.S. Navy's Blue Angels as well as an F-16, F-22 Raptor and an F-35.  The performance of all of those aircraft is impressive and it is no wonder our military forces dominate the sky.

To me, though, the aircraft that brought a lump to my throat is the one in the image above; the P-51 Mustang which arguably was the most innovative of its time and gave the British and U.S. forces the edge they needed to win the air war in World War II.  The speed and maneuverability of this plane is impressive even today, almost 80 years after it first rolled off the assembly line.

A Boeing B-52 Stratofortress even made a low-level flyover pass.   It has been a workhorse for the U.S. military for over 50 years and is expected to remain a part of our military presence until after 2040.

If you have never attended an air show, I would encourage you to do so.  The Alliance Show is one of the bigger ones, but there are many smaller venues around the country.  In the meantime, here's a link to a video (not mine) of the Blue Angels.

Time Travel

The trail is long,

The days are hot,

The dust chokes,

The sweat soaks,

The bugs bite,

Yet, there is delight

In thudding hoof

And cattle bawls

And clicking horns

And swishing tails

And drifting smells

Of the herd.

Cardinals and Medicine Men

A couple of days ago I posted about the trash we find in the woods.  The very same day we came across the old tire, we also came across this beautiful Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis).  It was growing near a slough where the water stands throughout the year.

The Cardinal Flower requires Hummingbirds for propagation due to the depth of the flowers.  It is poisonous and teas were made of the roots and the leaves by various Indian tribes for use as cures.  Gardeners often plant it to attract Hummingbirds and because of the showy blooms.

I just like to see the bright splash of color against the green and brown backdrop. 

Cardinal Flowers are an indicator species for wetlands and are usually found in the wild near water.  The piperidine alkaloids found in the plants are similar to nicotine.  A close relative of the Cardinal Flower is Lobelia inflata or, Indian Tobacco. 

I have often thought that if I had been an American Indian back before European settlement, I would likely have been the Medicine Man of the tribe.  It is intriguing to me how they were able to identify and utilize the naturally occurring substances in plants and animals to effect cures or, at least treatments, for various diseases.  Many researchers today find that those cures have scientific validity and likely were at least somewhat effective beyond the placebo effect.

The one part of being a "Medicine Man" that would bother me is the association with Shamanism.  I believe man has a spiritual aspect, but I also believe attempts to enter into communion with that world through the use of mind-altering drugs is dangerous.  Simply making that statement sends shivers through me because mankind has a history of believing they can handle any danger and even mentioning the possibility of the reality of entering that world through drugs is like a dare to some.  I don't want someone to read this and attempt it.

Hmmm...I'm not sure what to think about those last couple of paragraphs.  It is thought that the Cardinal Flower received its name because of the similarity to the robes worn by Catholic Cardinals.  That's two different connections to the Spiritual World in one pretty flower....

Just a Tree

Sometimes in this part of the world, off in the distance, you hear a crashing sound.  When that happens, you know a tree, or at least a large branch, has fallen.

I didn't attempt to step off the length of this tree, but I would guess it was in the 80 to 100 foot category.  It appears to be a Water Oak (Quercus nigra) that was growing in the flat bottom land near one of the creeks that cross our place.  For perspective, I stuck a shovel in the ground near the roots in order to give some idea of the size (middle image).

There is a lot of good lumber in this fallen giant that will never be harvested simply because of location.  There really isn't a way to get to it without a major road-building project.  I'm sure that is the reason it is there in the first place; it and many others like it are isolated and difficult to reach so they have been undisturbed for many years.

Near this "small" tree are a number of native pecan trees which dwarf this one.  They are massive, with long, straight trunks that reach many feet before branching.  The canopy of the many trees in this area is such that the young trees grow straight up in their quest for light.  That condition is ideal for producing quality lumber.

It's too bad the lumber from this fallen tree will never be harvested for building material.  It would make a large quantity of long, straight boards that could be used for furniture or cabinetry.

Although not recommended as an ornamental, we transplanted a small seedling of Water Oak yesterday in honor of this one.  It came from near where its giant cousin had fallen.

Who Left Their Trash in the Woods?

The other day I was off down in the woods and ran across this tire.  Finding such things in the otherwise non-trashed environment angers me and it makes me sad.  It was in an area that is often inundated with water after a heavy rain and I suspect washed in from a long way off.  Someone upstream had used the creek or, one of the waterways leading into it, as a dumping ground for their trash.  It may have been carried for miles before being deposited in this isolated place.

We often find other people's trash on our land.  It is usually of the smaller variety such as plastic bottles and drink cans.  Occasionally, though, we find larger items such as refrigerators and ice chests and tires.  I think most of the smaller items come from the roadside ditches that are frequently the receptacle of plastic bottles, drink cups, fast food carryout bags and other sundry items that likely were released into the wild at high speeds as their previous owner traveled one of the county roads.  When the rains come, the trash is washed into the many waterways that eventually lead to the creeks and rivers.

I was in school during the major wave of the environmental movement that swept our nation during the 60's and 70's.  We learned that you shouldn't be a "litterbug."  We were not often taught the reasons why we shouldn't litter, just that it was "bad" to do so.  Perhaps that's where the movement failed.  Most people don't realize that the cup they threw out, which is ostensibly biodegradable, may end up as micro-plastic in their water supply or, the fish they catch in the local lake which serves as the city water source.  Maybe they just don't care.

One of the ways governmental bodies incorporated the anti-littering campaigns of those years into legislative action was to make littering carry stiff fines or, other penalties.  That's great, but do you know anyone who was ever fined for littering?  I'm sure it happens, but it isn't frequent or we would hear about it every day based on the volume of trash I see.

As I listen to the various "solutions" to what is now being called the "climate crisis," I hear proposals to penalize those who contribute to the issue.  Fifty years after littering fines were instituted, we still have a littering problem.  I wonder just how well the proposed penalties will work in curbing behavior that contributes to the anthropocentric view of global warming?  In my opinion, the real solution is to educate rather than to regulate.  Behavior changes when understanding of the consequences is clear.

I think there is no doubt that many behaviors of mankind are abusive of the planet.  One of the most egregious is the paving over of productive land as urban and suburban sprawl gobbles the countryside.  If our legislative bodies want to do something that will help, maybe they should look at population growth patterns in view of flooding issues, the loss of productive agricultural lands and the exploding infrastructure necessary to accommodate low-density housing.

[Aside] I follow an individual on Twitter who has ties to the United Nations Committee on Climate Change.  He daily posts photos of the beautiful places he visits around Europe.  His jet travel alone contributes more in a year to releasing sequestered carbon into the atmosphere than most people will contribute in a lifetime.  Yet, he does get to see some beautiful places that most of us will never have the opportunity to see.  Should I envy him? or, should I condemn him as a hypocrite?  I choose to do neither.  I just hope he someday might see that the image he portrays in his posts is not the one he asks in the behavior of others.  Sometime I would love to have the opportunity to show him the world in which I live.

I am a strong proponent of the free market.  I don't like regulation or, legislation, therefore, I would suggest that behavior be based on incentives through the market with things like tax credits which are currently used for conservation easements.  We need to ask if there are ways to incorporate similar strategies in directing growth so that the environmental impacts are minimized.  As we do so, we need to keep in mind the potential negative economic impacts that such incentives may carry.  If initiatives penalize some current landowners while rewarding others, the result will be increased corruption.  Perhaps it would be possible to use a tax structure that would reward developers for including green spaces and flood mitigation strategies within a development and penalizing them for not doing so.  Those penalties could then be used as offsets to those landowners who own sensitive areas that would be penalized if developed.  What is needed is a reward system that would encourage the preservation of the sensitive area.

I'm just trying to reason through possible mechanisms to drive good behavior through the market rather than strictly through a penalty system that likely won't work anyway.  There are lots of people out there with much more experience and training in this area than I will ever have; I hope they will step to the forefront and bring a common sense approach that will prevent the likes of a "Green New Deal" from taking hold.

Plant a Tree, Leave a Legacy

Everywhere we have lived -- unless renting -- we have planted trees.  Yes, we have moved quite a bit through the years and it has amounted to a lot of trees.  I suppose our proclivity toward planting them goes back to having grown up on the Texas High Plains where the only trees were those either planted by, or, descended from those planted by the residents.

This small tree (about 4 1/2 feet tall) now stands in our back yard as a replacement for one which we had to take out a couple of years ago.  Its predecessor was a Willow Oak (Quercus phelos) which was over 100 years old and 60 inches in diameter.  It was home to numerous squirrels and literally covered our entire backyard.

The tree in the photo is a transplant from our land out north of town which lies on Horse Pen Creek which is a tributary to White Oak Creek.  You guessed it, this is a White Oak (Quercus alba) which I thought appropriate.  It is a bit more tattered and torn than you would find if you were able to purchase one at a nursery.  The trouble is that White Oaks aren't usually a commonly stocked tree at nurseries because they aren't typically used for landscaping.  They tend to be slow growing and become extremely large over time.  There are documented instances of White Oak trees living up to 450 years; that's a long time to sequester carbon!

The White Oak produces beautiful wood and is commonly used for furniture, cabinetry and barrels.  White Oak has long been used for making wooden barrels.  It is sometimes told that Elijah Craig, a Baptist Minister, was the first to create Bourbon Whiskey in the late 1700's.  He had a small distillery which utilized white oak casks for storing his product.  A fire swept through his cooperage and left a charred ruin.  Being the frugal entrepreneur, he decided to utilize the charred kegs which imparted a reddish color to the stored product and Bourbon Whiskey was born.  There are other stories of the origin of the product, but the Baptist background provides an interesting twist and the legend has remained and is embodied in a product that bears his name.  I'm not advocating, or advertising, merely reporting the connections.

Trees, like history, are viewed in years.  When you plant a tree, you plant for future generations.  Through the years, we have sometimes had occasion to pass by a previous residence where we planted trees simply to see how they have grown.  Some have died, but others tower far above their humble beginnings.  They provide haven for birds and shade for children.  They break the howling winds and in a few locations, catch tumbleweeds.

Planting trees is a way to mark your place in history -- at least temporarily if you view it on a cosmic scale.  I appreciate those who left the trees behind which offer shade today.  Perhaps someone in the future will look at this White Oak and take a moment to reflect on those who planted it.

Learning to Overcome Our Nature

We had the opportunity to spend a little time in the woods yesterday.  It seems there is always something interesting to see.  The dampness yesterday morning allowed us to walk quietly in hopes of seeing a little wildlife.  The birds were plentiful, but no animals of the furry kind made their appearance.

We walked into an area that had many small Honey Locust trees which were covered with Lichens.  In time, the Lichens will kill the trees, but yesterday, the ones that I tested were still supple, indicating life.  The photos above are of the Lichens growing on one of them.

Many Lichens are edible or, contain medicinal properties.  Those with orange or, yellow colors contain acids that should be neutralized with baking soda.  There are hundreds of different kinds of Lichens, some of which grow on trees, others on rocks or, other structures.

Lichens are a composite growth form that arises from Algae or, Cyanobacteria living among filaments of multiple fungi species.  I wish I knew more about Lichens.  It seems the more I learn, the more I want to learn and the more I realize that I don't know.

Part of learning is approaching with an open mind.  There is someone I know who is convinced the world is flat.  He is continually finding people on the Internet who agree with his idea and uses their arguments to support his own.  He refuses to acknowledge any evidence otherwise.  That isn't how you learn.  You must look at all evidence and then evaluate the validity of each and every claim.  Just because John Whackadoodle in Whoknowswhere came up with some crazy explanation doesn't make it true.  In spite of my sometimes setting them aside, credentials do mean something.  If a person has a degree in Psychology, they will have to provide some pretty solid evidence of expertise before I will listen to them explain Astrophysics to me.

The scientific community is not immune to following the path of finding those who agree with their own theories and dismissing all others.  It is part of human nature to align with those who see the world the way you do.  As I mentioned yesterday, our genetic programming often pushes us to make a snap judgement based on either least, or maximum threat.  We tend to stick with those most "like" ourselves in order to minimize danger.  That is basic animal instinct.  We learn when we use reasoning to move beyond that default.

Conforming is easy.  Being different is difficult.  Be different and respect those who are willing to allow others see their differences.  It is risky, though, because the animal instincts which still drive many behaviors -- especially when in a group -- will likely result in ostracism or, worse.

I'm not saying you need to agree with those who take a different path, but you shouldn't attack them.  Hopefully, nature will cull those who are heading down the wrong ones.  Oh, yeah, there is lots of interference with nature right now.  In my mind that's not a good scenario.  It causes a buildup of potential consequence that will eventually explode. 

Manipulated by Instinct

The Scissor-tailed Flycatcher, Tyrannus forficatus, is one of my favorite birds.  We see them almost every day, vigilantly perched somewhere in the pasture, prepared to catch the insects which make up their diet.  They are in the same Family as the King Birds and that is why the ominous sounding Family name of Tyrannus (Tyrant).  King Birds are notorious for vigorously defending their territory and will frequently attack larger birds.  We saw one yesterday attacking a Crow as it flew across.  The Scissor-tailed Flycatchers are not that aggressive against other birds, but are stuck with the family reputation.

As I was thinking about that fact -- "stuck with the family reputation" -- it came to mind that people tend to attach "family" reputations to individuals, no matter what their own character might be.  I think this especially applies to what I will term "religious" families, or affiliations.  We create in our minds an all-encompassing view of members of particular religions that don't apply to all adherents.  In fact, they probably don't apply to the religion in general but, are drawn from our "worst" impressions of a group.  We attach the word "terrorist" with Islam and "self-righteous" with Christianity.  We also see many who associate "peaceful" with Buddhism and other Eastern religions.  The problem is that none of those descriptors are true in general, but may be true of specific individuals.

The tendency to quickly classify based on associations such as just described is part of our genetic programming that has evolved as a survival mechanism.  We link to "worst" cases because that is the potential source of danger to us.  It is only when we learn to overcome our genetic coding and view situations and individuals through reasoning and observation that we can see clearly in each case.  Otherwise, our "default" view determines our response.

In this world of "instant" everything, we fail to realize that the immediate gratification is an appeal to our most basic animal responses.  It is the default mode that gives the first and, initially, most likely satisfying result.  It isn't always what is best -- think drug addictions, etc.

One of the things that sets humans apart from animals is our ability to reason and therefore, to differentiate and discriminate between perceived instinctual threats and actual threats.  When we fail in this discernment, we are easily manipulated into behavior that may be detrimental.  We herd cattle based on their instinctual response to stimulus.  Humans follow a similar pattern when they fail to react with reason rather than base animal instinct.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is don't allow yourself to be manipulated.  Dig a little deeper.  Understand more.  Realize that those who would rule you often are not seeking your good, but their own power.  That isn't always the case, but is frequently the motivation for political rhetoric.  Don't be an animal, rise to the level of what makes us human.

"And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ -- to the glory and praise of God." -- Philippians 1:9-11

Our Gate Guard

It's kind of hard to make out the details on the uniform our "gate guard" wears, but if you click on the photo and enlarge it, they are quite impressive.  This little guy moved into the latch on our front gate very soon after it was installed.  As you can see by the rust and chipped paint, he has been there for awhile.  I think it is a Bold Jumping Spider, Phidippus audax.  He isn't much bigger than a dime and his aqua-colored eyes probably glow in the dark.

I'm impressed that it has survived as long as it has.  He stays right around the spring-latch on the gate which sees lots of activity.  It's surprising he hasn't been smashed by the latch which is spring activated, or that some human hasn't squashed him.  It could be that he is just too quick for anyone to catch.  I had a hard time getting him to sit still for the photo.

My daughter is not a big fan of spiders.  Arachnophobia is pretty common.  I have to admit that I don't like them crawling on me and I sure hate walking into a web unexpectedly.  Spiders are everywhere.  They are great at thinning the insect populations.

We've let this little one live on our gate for quite some time.  I hope the next owners give him the same consideration....

A Reluctant Hero

I guess some dogs are like some people, they don't like to have their picture made.  This is Sadie, our Redbone Coonhound.  She had just terminated two rats that came out from under a cover and not only dispatched them about as quickly as I saw them, but laid them by the gate to be carried out to the trash.  I told her she was a good girl and petted her and then asked for a photograph, but she muttered something about no makeup and not having combed her hair and this is what I got; a hero hiding her face.

This morning she got me up just a little earlier than normal.  Her baying indicated that something wasn't right.  When I came outside she was waiting by the back door to tell me that the trash cans had blown over.  Oh, well, it was almost time to get up anyway.

Animals, like people, need gainful employment.  Sadie's job is to guard the backyard from invading critters such as squirrels, opossums, raccoons and yes, rats.  You don't normally see rats, but every place where humans live has them.  Sadie also is to let us know if anything is wrong outside the house.  We know when visitors come and she seems to instinctively know the ones she can trust.  Suspicious strangers need not apply for entry.  She probably would do well with the Border Patrol, or as Airport Security.

Sadie is sometimes a bit moody.  If you don't scratch her behind the ears when she expects it, she will go off and sulk.  Sometimes, it seems as if she is trying to talk to you.  She makes a strange ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo noise that literally sounds like she is trying to form words.  Sometimes I think she is explaining something to me, or perhaps complaining about something Jake (a very large mixed breed dog) did or, making sure I know it was him and not her that did something they weren't supposed to do - like digging in the middle of the yard.

Nearly every animal I've ever been around has a discernible personality.  Sadie's is the most unique one in my experience.  This post is in her honor as the Rat Catcher of the Year.  I don't think she's figured out this Internet thing yet so, she will need to have someone read it to her....

Invasive but Restful

There are many different kinds of American Asters of the Genus Symphyotrichum.  We usually call them daisies when we see them growing.  When they are in the pasture, they are a weed.  I have no idea what species this one might be.

There are many analogies that could be drawn from this photograph I took yesterday morning.  The most obvious being that sometimes things that are attractive are not necessarily the best for us.  I'll pass on the analogies today and just stick with the fact that I like flowers.  I enjoy the variety and beauty of wildflowers.  I don't want to see the pasture filled with them, but one occasionally is acceptable.

It would have been easy to just keep on rolling across the pasture and ignore this invasive beauty, but instead, we stopped and took photographs -- no, that isn't the correct term anymore -- digital images of the wild Asters.  It took only a couple of minutes and the reality is that the flowers break the monotony of the grasses (which is a good thing for cattle) and provide a restful image for the mind.

Sometimes we just need to be distracted -- even momentarily -- from the things that fill our mind which constantly demand our focus and our time.  We function best with breaks in the routine.  We just need to take time to "smell" the flowers.  It's amazing how rejuvenating it can be.

Cows for Sale

When you look across the pasture at a bunch of cattle and then do a double-take because you weren't sure at a glance whether that white one was a calf or one of the bulls, you know it's time to do some shipping.  It is nice to see the big old calves this year.  The one in the photo is in the second weaning group; the first group went to town last month.

The other thing I notice in this photo is the grass.  We are going into the Fall with more grass than we ever had at this time of year.  It has been a good year for growing forage.  Yes, there are a few weeds scattered out there, but not too bad.  If your pasture looks like your lawn you are probably spending too much money on herbicides.  This meadow has had no herbicide applied since we've owned this place.  It also has not been fertilized.  I don't believe it has suffered from lack of either.

This is a bittersweet time for us.  We are selling out.  We are supposed to close next week on the sale of the land.  We have a little time after that in which to disperse equipment and cattle.  If you have any interest in the cows, they are looking for a good home.  The list of equipment is fairly short and I would be happy to provide it to anyone interested.

It's likely this post will prompt a lot of questions among friends and acquaintances.  There is nothing going on except opportunity to pursue new things.  The land and cattle are a joy, but take a lot of time.  We found someone who fell in love with the land much as we did and we came to a mutually satisfactory agreement.

We may buy another place in the country at some point in the future, but for now we are selling out.  Again, we have put together some top genetics in our cows and would love to see them go to a good home that will appreciate their quality.  If you are interested, please contact me.  A Direct Message through Facebook or, Twitter would probably be the best method or, comment on the Blog with your e-mail if you don't already have my number or e-mail.

Feelings and Places

Some places are special simply because of the way they make you feel.  To the left in this photo is the back fence of a place we used to own.  Across the fence to the south were the tangled thickets of Town Branch Creek and to the right was a small open grove of trees and then a hay meadow.  After heavy rains this area might be flooded to a depth of about a foot for about 24 hours before the water subsided.

For some reason this place always seemed to provide me with a sense of restfulness.  Perhaps it was the sunlight filtering down through the widely spaced trees which were open enough that the grasses grew and provided shade to wildlife and cattle.  There were always birds singing and flitting among the branches overhead.  It was a peaceful place.

I've noticed that other locations evoke different feelings.  We have an area on the place we now have that is a tangled thicket of vines and brush which gives me a sense of frustration.  That one is easy to decipher; what I really want to see there is what you see in this picture and I know that the effort to make it so will be extensive.

For the most part, being outdoors is restful to me.  Even when it is hot and miserable, if I can find a little shade and a slight breeze, it is a place in which to let the worries of the world bleed away and to just enjoy the sights and sounds around me.  I can simply "be."

Amazing, Wonderful Work

Some weeks lead with high expectations that all those rabbits you've been chasing will finally go to ground.  Others just feel like one more round on the gerbil wheel.  Monday often seems to set the tone for the week and the way it goes is a pattern for the days to follow.  For some reason I woke with the feeling that this will be one of those weeks where all those things that have been floating out in front that won't seem to light will begin to come together into something positive.  I guess we'll see.  The week hasn't really caught first gear yet.

I suppose my positive attitude began with the dreams that woke me during the night.  I have a tendency to wake multiple times and prefer to have a clock within view where I can mentally note the time and calculate how many more hours are left before an acceptable hour at which to rise.  My sleep rhythm and the circadian rhythm have gotten out of sync.  Anyway, the dreams that flashed through my mind each time I awoke seemed interesting and optimistic and something to remember, so I made mental note to myself to do so.  I can't remember a one of them this morning, only the vague impression that they were positive and filled with accomplishment and progress.

Maybe I need a notepad by the bed on which to record things which flash through my mind as self-proclaimed brilliance.  The trouble with that is my spouse, attempting to sleep in spite of my tossing and turning, would be further disturbed and likely become more than a little perturbed at the light coming on at all hours of the night in order for me to record my thoughts.  I suppose it isn't such a good idea.

Why is it that some days are filled with expectation and others with dread?  Why do most people dread Mondays?  The common explanation is that they prefer the chosen leisure activities of their weekend to the mandated structure of a job.  We dislike going to work.

I don't buy it.  I see people working on the weekends and other days off.  They sometimes work at what are considered recreational activities, but if you dive into the essence of work -- if you look at the many definitions of work -- it quickly becomes apparent that work is where we choose to exert effort.  My preferred definition of work is "activity in which one exerts strength or faculties to do or perform something."

I know people who work much harder at hunting deer than they do for the paycheck that provides the funds for the ammunition required to hunt the deer.  They gripe and complain that their job is interfering with their opportunities to hunt.  Perhaps the issue is simply that they need to re-frame their thinking in regard to their job which attaches a monetary reward.  If you view it as the means of attaining the resources to do what you choose, then it becomes part of the very exercise of your enjoyable activity.  The day job on the road crew is just the first part of the hunt.

We humans are strange creatures.  We allow ourselves to be convinced that work is a bad thing.  It is something we are "made" to do in order to survive.  Such a mentality is contributory to the attitude that seems prevalent today that "the government" should provide everyone with a livable wage.  Well, to be clear, "the government" provides nothing that people who contribute to it by their labor didn't create in the first place.  In the words of Robert Heinlein who borrowed it from common usage during his developmental days, "TANSTAAFL." (there ain't no such thing as a free lunch)

I look forward to see what the fruits of my labor might be.  Work is a good thing.  It is gratifying to see what can be created through the efforts of man/woman both individually and collectively.  Look on your work with the eyes of a child and be amazed at what your hands and mind can accomplish.

All Is Well

Clinging to the ground,

The soft white blanket

Shrouds the distant creek bottom

In mystery

And silence

As the rising ball of fire in the east

Approaches the lifting curtain

Of morning.

All is well.

"May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through.  May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.  The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it." -- 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24

Good Help is Hard to Find

A worn out old pickup turned off the highway and crossed the cattle guard into what looked to be a promising spread.  The dust boiled up behind the rusty stock trailer bouncing along behind him on the ranch road as he headed inland toward what looked to be the Headquarters.

As his tires crunched the gravel and he rolled to a stop, the owner stepped out on the porch and waited as the slightly bent door of the old Chevrolet squeaked and popped as it was opened by the lanky visitor who hollered a "Howdy" as he slammed the door and headed toward the house.  It seems he badly needed work and had his horse and tack but, needed room and board and a little something to tuck away for the future.

The rancher eyed him hopefully because help was hard to find and this old cowboy appeared to wear the positive signs of knowing his stuff, but there was always a catch so, he asked the question, "What kind of work are you looking for?"

The grizzled old puncher said, "I been horseback my whole life.  I know cows better than I knew any of my three wives.  Why, I've worked ranches all across the west and can give you plenty of references."

The rancher rubbed his chin and said, "I've got plenty of work and I can supply the room and board and a pretty good wage, but the work will be hard and the days long.  We're spread out over 40 miles and I'm short handed.  You can start in the morning.  The bunkhouse is behind the barn and if you'll get your gear stowed we'll have supper here at the house around six.  You'll find hay in the barn and you can put your horse in the corral out back."

With a grin and a hand shake the old cowboy felt his luck was finally changing.  He pulled his rig around back, unloaded Old Red and hauled his entire life's accumulation of property into the bunkhouse.

Supper was beef and beans with a side of corn bread and the pleasant company of the rancher's wife.  Conversation mostly consisted of the old cowboy sharing tales of his travels around the country and the spreads he had worked.

The next morning, long before daylight, breakfast of pancakes and eggs with bacon and hot coffee greeted the old cowboy who anxiously awaited the day's instructions which the rancher had carefully withheld the night before.  As they walked outside the owner asked, "Do you have a good set of gloves?"

"Yep, I keep a pair of nice, soft calfskin gloves.  I find they're the best for handling a rope or, a hot iron."

The rancher said, "You may want something a little tougher today.  I've got several pair I can supply you.  Here's the keys to that old pickup you saw parked in front of the barn.  If you'll hook it up to that trailer load of cedar posts and meet me back here in about 30 minutes you can follow me up to the north place where I've got about 3 miles of fence that needs built."

The cowboy's face fell as he turned and headed to the barn.  He looked in the back of the old truck and saw the rolls of "devil's rope" stacked there and said a few choice words to himself before pitching the keys in the seat of the old truck.  He then headed to the bunkhouse, grabbed his gear, then loaded Old Red in the rusty trailer.

The rancher heard churning gravel as he came back out to the sight of the worn out old pickup headed back toward the highway, dust boiling.  He shook his head and laughed to himself.  "If that old cowboy knew we were just going to deliver that pickup and trailer to the fencing crew he would have stuck around.  I guess he didn't need work that badly after all."

A Feral Shish Kabob?

This long-legged bug eater was earning his slot in the environment late yesterday.  It has been hanging around our place for awhile.  I was out checking cattle when I spotted him striding deliberately through the grass.  Every few steps his long beak would dart to the ground and capture an insect.  Then, in a lightening-quick motion, the long neck would form an S-shape and with beak pointed upward it would gulp the insect in one swift bite.

The Great Egret, Ardea alba, is a large bird.  They can be almost 4 feet tall and have a wingspan nearing 5 feet.  The only wading bird we see in our area that is larger is the Great Blue Heron.  I was amazed at how this one let me watch him from a distance of less than 40 yards for several minutes before becoming nervous and flying off.

According to a recently released report, North America has lost around 1/4 of its birds in the last 50 years.  I have no doubt this is true, but out in the wide-open spaces where ranching is the primary way-of-life, I see more birds than ever.  In the cities, however, you not only have the paving over of the land, you have millions of feral cats that prey on birds.  I would strongly encourage you to read the linked story.

I think if a feral cat attempted to eat the Great Egret he might become a shish kabob.  Now, that would be an interesting sight!

A Tale of Three Friends

Three amigos went to town

Dressed in their finest clothes

With payday bulging in their pockets,

Following their nose.

They stepped into a local bar

And plopped their money down

For a bottle full of whiskey

So they could paint the town.

Jingling spurs were on their boots

And hats sat on their head;

They planned to have a good old time

Before they went to bed.

They met three ladies painted bright

And then commenced to dancing;

They were whooping and a hollering,

You should have seen them prancing!

But, three bad hombres took offence

At the noise they were making

And seeing they had money

Thought it would be easy taking

So, they picked a fight which moved outside;

The crowd right there observing

To see what these young friends might do;

The scene was quite unnerving.

When one bad hombre said to them,

"We're here to spoil your fun!"

To which replied one of the three,

"Why, the fun has just begun!"

Three cowboys out to paint the town

After weeks out in the brush

Weren't about to let three local toughs

Take them in a rush.

They met the onslaught like old pros

With fighting in their blood

And left those hombres in the street

Just lying in the mud.

The three then headed back inside

With the ladies on their arms,

Exhibiting for them to see

Their simple cowboy charms.

They danced and sang throughout the night

Until they shut the old place down

Then the three amigos caught their mounts

And headed out of town

With empty pockets, bellies full

And tales of what they'd done;

Their ride was full of laughter

Just reciting all the fun.