The rooster crowed as I woke up. My eyes were heavy as I sat in my car waiting on the Farmer to get home from getting his truck fixed. I looked out over the fields at the fog beginning to lift. I had been here since about 8:30 but it had seemed like hours. I rubbed my eyes and pulled my feet up in my seat. I heard a loud bang come from my door. I looked over the side of the door and who do I see? My good friend, the rooster.
There are high levels of sarcasm as I type that.
The small herd of yearlings I haven’t been too fond of the rooster ever since he chased me up the porch. He pecked my car, I guess he saw his reflection. I shooed him from my door and by that time I saw an old Ford turning into the drive. He drove like a madman speeding down the driveway. He jumped out, waved and smiled then headed to the cow pasture. he was always in such a hurry to go everywhere. I got out of my car and walked behind him to the field, my little legs tried to catch up.
This was it, this was the farm life that I would be living by this time next year. I went out to the pen that he put new cows in to keep them from getting the rest sick.
A sweet looking baby stared back at me. The farmer walked up next to me, “Purty ain’t he?” I smiled trying to hold back a laugh, “Yerp, he’s right thur purty. Mhm.” I laughed at my “redneckity” mixed with Carl from Slingblade accent. The farmer walked around the pen staring down the calf while I wandered off to find the others.
The rooster, a hen and the tractors. He has a small herd of yearling calves that like to watch us. I found them watching me from behind the grain bin. They’re so cute & curious. I made my way over cow patties and began snapping some photos. I walked close to an old house there in the field. The farmer says it was an old goat house and where they stored stuff but I like to think that it was a house with some life in it or something. When we took our engagement photos we went in it to explore places to take photos. It’s a small 3 or 4 room house with floors that are so unstable that every step the farmer made I was holding onto walls and doorways begging him to take lighter steps. I stood there looking at this old house. Things like this, places like this it was almost like I wanted there to be some kind of history behind it. I wanted to almost see someone building it and putting all their tears, blood and sweat into it.
I heard the farmer calling to me to come on. So I walked around the grain bin making the cows scatter. He went inside the house and I sat on the porch steps looking at all my photos I had gotten.
Comments