The Pasture

Day 109: I talk a lot about "the pasture." This is it. I cannot remember when it had livestock in it, but I do remember the barn and the little house which stood beside it. In my recollection, they were always only a few gusts of wind short of tumbling down, home only to coyotes and other small varmints. Still, it was a sad day when the property owners turned the structures over to the fire department for a training burn.

That said, the pasture now provides feed for three distinct elk populations, not as numerous in these last few years as they once were. I personally counted 108 on one occasion, and a neighbor swears he saw at least 120. Hawks and Turkey Vultures fly overhead, searching out mice and moles, and deer occasionally browse apart from their larger cervine cousins. As habitat goes, the open field has much to offer, moreso since a stream runs against the base of the hills on the far side. Thistles bloom abundantly here, unmanaged by county weed control, and although they're considered a nuisance, their pale lavender heads are spectacular en masse. This evening, a rainbow arched above the open land, quietly painting a brush stroke of ephemeral and transient beauty across cloud and land alike. Perhaps I don't miss that old ramshackle barn as much as I thought I did.