Gifts come in many forms, and it is often wonderful to receive them. I certainly hope the lovely readers of this blog have had a holiday season filled with pleasant surprises. For me, there have been more than a few thoughtful arrivals in my mailbox and at holiday gatherings. My favorite gifts, however, are not purchased – with the possible exceptions of Milky the Cow and Hoppity Horse when I was 8 years old.
Gift of Purpose
One of my favorite gifts is the opportunity to steward this land. Every day, I consider my time here precious. On Christmas, I was given the gift of being able to plant what (I hope) will be iconic sentinels on the hill – blue oaks. If you are a regular reader, you will know that, last year, I lost two 200 year old oaks from a combination of drought and age, and that their loss tore my heart into a million small pieces.
If you know anything about blue oaks, you know they grow slow. This is why, at least in California, there are rules to protect these majestic beauties from being cut down in a thoughtless moment of caprice. To look at them, to be present within their sphere, is to be transformed. They are majestic with their large size, accommodation of a complex ecosystem and tortuous branches reaching out wide from their trunk decorating the air with smell and statement…this is my place; I am here.
I have attempted to plant blue oaks over the years – acorns carefully placed into the ground, tubes to prevent predation of roots and delicate branches, seedlings in root balls of ancient, dead trees. All were eaten by gophers, stepped on by cows, or never germinated. Now, I am planting seedlings in baskets and protecting them further by an external fence. They will be watered regularly in the first one or two years. Maybe this will work. I have lost years with these set-backs.
There is an urgency because many blue oak woodlands are in decline. Even on my ranch there are few young trees. You can find seedlings in the creek banks and many adults, but there are very few young trees to take the place of the old. How horrible to live in a community with no young. I feel sad for the adult blue oaks with no youth to mentor, to raise and watch grow. I want to be sure there are forests of blue oaks for the young of my species, so together they can breathe, marvel at one another’s beauty and rely on the common sense and decency built into each of us for respect – knowing that we need one another.
Gift of Life
Cattle also provide us gifts, perhaps not of their own free will, but by their lot in life. In this passage, I will be honest with you about our food system. If your heart cannot handle this information or you do not want to be sad at this time of joy, please skip to the next section. I won’t judge you. I get it. Living with it, as I do every day, it is impossible for me to avoid. Having a break can be helpful for the empathic soul.
This Christmas, my heart has been split, one side celebratory of the season and the other focused on a downed cow. While I was gone visiting family, evidently bulls were rough with Cow #253 as they attempted to breed. According to my cattleman, this is not a rare occurrence. Cows can be harmed in the process, and can have injuries. Most convalesce and recover in a brief time. Unfortunately for Cow #253, her injury appears more severe. It has been preventing her from being able to stand. She has been laying near my upper gate for days.
She was not there when I left for a party at a friend’s last week, but she was there when I returned the next day in the evening. Cows bed down at night, and I did not think much of it except that she was by herself – which is not usual. I made a mental note. She was there the next morning still laying down. Very unusual. I had talked to my cattleman several days before. There had been respiratory illness in some of the calves. I thought, maybe she was sick. I took a photo, sent it and called him. He came out that day to take a look and bring some hay to her. She was healthy, but unable to stand – hence the botched breeding theory. He would give her pain meds and other medical help and would wait a few day to see if she would be able to stand.
In my comings and goings, I kept him informed. He came back another couple times I think. Christmas was the first day I have been fully home, and it gave me the opportunity to keep a closer eye on the situation.
I woke early Christmas morning and looked for her. Sadly, she was still there laying nearly helpless on the ground. To my horror, a bull was there too, sniffing her rear and eating the hay that had been brought for her. I put my jacket and boots on, dogs at my side, and strided quickly toward the pair yelling at him to get away from her. He stood his ground, but I was undeterred. She had suffered, presumably due to his clumsy greed, and I would not have that again. He was stubborn, but retreated, remaining in visual contact. As I began to climb back up the hill, he headed back toward her. It was a dance I was uninterested in dancing. I went full force back toward him, yelling, dogs pushing him away. Finally, he surrendered and headed east away from us.
I approached her. Oh my, she was a beauty. Large, healthy coat, big beautiful engaged eyes. My presence was viewed with suspicion. Cows get handled so much in their lives, and these encounters are often painful, such as branding, doctoring or emotionally, when their calves are taken from them to be fattened by another operation then sold to the feedlot before they become food and fiber products. If a cow does not become pregnant within a couple breeding cycles, she herself is sold off to the feedlot and joins her many calves before her as hamburger, steaks, dog chews, shoes and car seats. While there is diversity in the timing, methods, inputs and level of respect, fundamentally, cattle is a business. A cow’s only value is in calve production. That is the honest long and short of it.
So Cow #253 tolerated me. She flinched as I approached her even closer, inspecting her on all sides. I cooed to her, talking sweet and telling her how sorry I was that she was in this situation. How could I help her? I was wishing I had a hoyer lift to help her stand and see what malfunction was hidden underneath. She mooed at me as she tried to stand. Pain? Frustration? I saw how much she was trying and trying to stand, to move from me and continue her life of grazing, and calve raising. But no, she could only drag herself a few feet one direction or another; I could tell by the patterns on the ground, the absence of grass, the splattering of feces. All I could do was keep her company a little at a time, fill her water vessel that the cattlemen had left, but was now empty, and hand her hay that was well out of her reach. I encouraged her every time she tried to stand.
By the end of the day, I was convinced that the only help would come in the form of a bullet. As much as I hoped she would miraculously get better, that nothing was fractured or broken, I began to theorize that those rough bulls crushed part of her. In the business of cattle, there is no financial incentive to heal fractures or breaks. Often, those types of injuries are difficult to heal even if it was desired, and with no guarantee the animal would have a pain-free life. She is less costly dead than putting more time and money into her. This realization, as I texted my cattleman the words “She is still down and is frustrated. It’s been 4 days.”, placed a deep weight in my stomach.
I hear the gunshot. It is done. She is no longer suffering.
Last night, a small group of cows laid near her, and it probably brought her comfort. She is being dragged to the south part of the ranch as I write this – part to spare me the sight and smell of rotting flesh and part to keep things clean for the public lest they see the cost of their beef.
Even though cattle are foreigners on this native landscape, brought as familiar food and fiber by colonizing forces, they are sentient creatures and deserve respect. I love them because they are alive. Cow #253 and I communicated. I tried to meet her needs, to help her; I will mourn her passing. As a person who uses leather products, takes medication with bovine ingredients, and feeds a small amount of beef products to my dogs, I am part of the demand for her meat, bones and skin – and am always grateful for her gifts. After death, her body will nourish countless wildlife – coyotes, vultures, eagles and worms. It will give me a great show in the air, as I watch for who has caught the smell of carrion and dives down to feast. Chiokoe uttesia (Thank you) Cow #253 for feeding my relatives, may you graze peacefully somewhere in the energetic unknown.
Gift of Friendship and Labor
We have had a total of 1.7 inches since Oct 1. There is no standing water, but the springs and creek are still running from the remarkable last rain year. When the rain comes, we are ready. In November, my college best friend and her daughter visited. It was joyous. Among many fun things we did on the ranch, we built up last year’s successful rock check dam hoping for more sediment gain and soil moisture retention. Last year, the benefit was incredible with standing water and flowers in the typically dry arroyo through September. Dry areas 20 feet up stream (above the grass and flowers) and just below the rock check dam told me what I had done worked.
Gift of Beauty and Food
The weather is still temperate. Although it has finally gotten cold, there has been no frost on the hilltop. We still have a variety of blooms, one or two butterflies, a small number of bees and tomatoes! Yesterday, I saw a very large painted lady butterfly. A little pink throated hummingbird balanced on the edge of the tomato cage watching me as I filled the cart with water for the downed cow. I was able to see it clearly and had time to observe it closely. It was beautiful. So many small things bring joy.
Gift of Service to Community
In November, I joined the Southern Sierra Miwuk (SSMW) in helping at their cultural burn on the Mariposa Creek Parkway project. I helped Ray Gutierrez start the fire traditionally using air and friction between soft and hard woods. That was exciting! There were many agencies helping and so many friends to catch up with. One of my favorite people of all time, elder Bill Tucker, was there. As usual, he lead me on a hike through some dicey territory looking for grinding stones. We found many. I love him!
The plants we planted the month before looked healthy. I took this opportunity to straighten out the gopher baskets and coir discs. I have also been helping Shana Saucido, the SSMW Pollinator Coordinator, plant the Xerces habitat kits in the Oak Fire burn scar. No photos of this yet, but we still have many plants to plant. I am very grateful for the opportunity to serve my relatives and the local First Nations.
Gift of Knowledge Through Art
November and early December, David and I traveled to Quebec City. There was a powerful exhibit of Indigenous art at the Fine Arts Museum (Musée des Beaux Arts). We don’t take large trips often, but when we do, I always like to learn about the places we go and whatever knowledge First Nations people want to share. The fine art Native people produce is extraordinary and the specific stewardship stories are inspirational.
Gift of Time for Reflection
I have had some very nice blocks of down-time over the holiday season to reflect on this work and what is next. Seventeen monarchs last Fall, more crotch bumble bees than before, enough toads to populate a pond – all from having the right native plants. As long as the plants, butterflies and bees continue to show up, the work will be a success. Shana from the Tribe has taken this project and scaled it up with an effervescence and zeal only possible through a deep love of this work. What a gift for me to see even more habitat installed as yet another Indigenous young woman is inspired by a small but remarkable orange, black and white life. Life is full, wondrous and leaving me thinking about what is next.
Although I am still working out the details on my next step, I will be sure to share it here. One thing is for sure, it will involve a drawing for free t-shirts at the time of the 100th post. More information soon. Thank you for going on this journey with me, for sticking with the project during sad times and joyful. Thanks for reading, providing feedback and encouragement. It is unlike me to share so deeply, but I have found that I learn so much from you when I do. Chiokoe uttesiavu (Thank you all).
Heather Bernikoff 