JOURNAL ENTRY #2

Afternoon Matinee

(June 27, 2010)

From the driveway patio,

I have the best seat in the house,

for I am the only one witnessing the scenes

on the screen in front of me:

Mr. Mockingbird on top of the telephone pole,

graciously sharing an afternoon concert, or sermon perhaps, that I take in

while the rest of the world seems oblivious to his (incessant) chirping.

("Pretty bird, pretty bird, pretty bird...be a bird, be a bird, be a bird....

and an occasional "SQUAWK" when he comes to an emotional moment.

I've counted about 20 different songs in his afternoon repertoire.)

As hummingbirds whiz about in all directions

and cats snooze at my feet,

our cow neighbors come into view in the upper field -

slowly, steadily, patiently making their

way back toward the barn down the lane.

I listen to the grinding of their teeth

as they chew their cud

and hear an occasional bovine belch,

indicating satisfaction with the field's fare.

There's a rhythm and drone to their

yanking the grass out of the ground

and subsequent chomping.

One pees; another poops.

Not one seems bothered by anything.

Occasionally, a mom will look up to see if

her calf's close by, shifting a glance my

way to check out this zany human

who's peering at her through her

binoculars.

(I think cows are beautiful and interesting...not nearly so dumb

as some people think. The hair at the base of their ears is as

soft as cotton.)

As the breeze picks up a bit,

rustling the leaves and swaying the treetops,

one mama realizes her baby's not in sight.

She bellows loudly...once, twice, three times...

followed by anticipation of a response.

There's a brief silence.....and then,

from behind the pines,

I hear a cry of relief from the little one who's

heard his mom's voice and can discern her location.

(I remember when Samuel

responded to my calls one afternoon when

he was little and had lost his way in the back woods.)

Running frantically,

the less-than-week-old brown calf comes

stumbling across the field....

He's definitely out of breath.

(The rest of the herd has stopped, as well,

to make sure he's OK.)

I totally understand what's taking

place....I've have felt Mama Cow's

momentary panic....and I've

felt her relief at having her calf

back at her side. I've witnessed the release of fear on his face

when a little one realizes he's OK...)

A happy ending before I drift off

for an afternoon nap.