We’re departing from Grammy’s farm today, headed to NYC to stay the night with the happy couple I married in May. It will be good to get home, although I’ll miss the profound nighttime silence, the clean air that’s full of the smells of nature, and the long walks with Barky through the fields.
Although I want to live somewhere more rural like this than where we do, next door to the Mall of the Doomed, I always seem to end up back in suburbia. Maybe that’s just me returning to my suburban roots. And maybe if I was anything other than the child of suburbia that I am, perhaps on my walk earlier this week, I would have noticed that I wasn’t taking a picture of just any cow, but a pregnant cow.
This morning, taking one final perambulation with Barky, we came across Fifi again. I stopped not because she’s one of 3B’s favorites here, but because she was standing over a calf–a calf that wasn’t with her yesterday. I got close enough to see that the calf was moving and that Fifi wanted me nowhere near the calf, and then I headed back to Grammy’s house.
As we walked off, Fifi came out of the stand of trees that she was in between the old barn and the brook and called to the other cows, who were standing up on the rise. They all came down and gathered around her, then she led them across the brook to introduce them all to her new calf as Barky and I walked away.
We always look forward to coming back to Grammy’s farm, but now we’ll have a special treat to anticipate for our Christmas trip. When 3B goes into the calf barn to give calves their bottles, he’ll be able to give one to Fifi’s calf.