Close to the Source

The freshness of early morning lingers as Carolyn and I clamber over the de-activated electric fence and enter the spacious pasture where the hundred or so cows, calves and steers reside.

'They're already down in the woods,' Carolyn informs me. 'They prefer the shade in warm weather.'

I spot a lone cow in the pasture just outside the lush forested area five hundred feet away. Unaccustomed to taking my morning exercise in cow pastures, I step in about three cowpies before I figure out that I should look down occasionally. Mist rises as the sun begins to evaporate moisture from damp grass and earth.

The Scottish Highland and Belted Galloway cattle are heirloom breeds that were in existence long before our modern beef cattle. Their appearance is strikingly different and has its own rugged charm. Built low to the ground like a Tibetan yak, these massive beasts often have huge bangs hanging over their foreheads. Somehow, that reminds me of Moe of the 3 Stooges, the slapstick comedians I watched on TV as a kid.

'They're pretty docile, aren't they,' I inquire.

'Oh, yes,' Carolyn assures me. 'They won't attack you or anything.'

'Even the mother cows with young calves?'

'No, they'll be fine. If they are a little nervous about you at first, they'll just move away a bit.'

Just about to enter the wooded area, I see them. And hear them. Resonant breathing, steam rising from their hides, their huge presence in the shadows of the trees and slanting sunlight evokes a feeling of prehistoric times. Carolyn and I enter the primeval scene, walking through soft black muddy soil.

All thought has receded from my brain. I am totally present in a very alive dream in a pastoral landscape. The ancient symbiotic relationship between humans and the creatures that provide sustenance wraps me in its earthy spell.

After a little initial caution, the huge beasts draw closer to us, gently pressing in, curious. I feel the fullness of their breath, the massiveness of their bodies, their benign attraction to the two human creatures in their midst.

Obviously, these cows like humans. I keep my body language soft and inviting, often crouching down to make my stranger's presence more approachable. A big black yearling steer sidles up to me and soon is licking my arm and trying to eat my braided hair.

A young heifer calf trustingly lifts her head as Carolyn hugs her.

'We spend a lot more time with the cows than most beef farmers,' Carolyn comments. 'If you were at our neighbor's farm, their cows would have run away immediately.'

Sitting on a mossy log, I am lost in the gaze of a beautifully marked yearling steer.

'The hardest thing about raising them is sending them away at the end,' Carolyn confides.

For me, life is a circle - we all feed on life, and provide food when we go. It has been a moving experience to get so up close and personal with benevolent creatures that provide such magnificent food.

(To contact Carolyn and John Wheeler directly, call 413-625-2900).