Tilly a.k.a. “Wild Thing”

"out to play - where is my buddy?" . . . .

“out to play – where is my buddy?” . . . .

Tilly has just come running up the creek bottom from the barn.  She goes out to “free range” in the pasture in the mornings and we take her back to the barn in the early evening.  She is on a mission to find her good buddy.

"think I'll just kick up my heels !" . . . . . .

“think I’ll just kick up my heels !” . . . . . .

On this particular morning she is full of spit and vinegar.  The weather is changing and she responds to change in the atmosphere.  Only one hoof is touching ground and I was only able to capture her on her descent back to earth – she wanted to buck and snort a bit to let the world know she has arrived.

"I think I see my buddy!" . . . .

“I think I see my buddy!” . . . .

She is headed back down the road after spotting Feed Lot in the bottom grazing on twigs and leaves.  She is on her way to “round him up” as she likes him to accompany her on their daily rounds.

"C'mon, let's go!" . . . .

“C’mon, let’s go!” . . . .

Typical hungry steer, he is paying little attention to her and has his nose buried in a pile of leaves.  He will lose this battle of wills, as usual.

"I will bite you, buddy!" . . . .

“I will bite you, buddy!” . . . .

Tilly is good at using her teeth to get his attention.  Her little “love nips” usually get him moving.  If not, she will rear up and wave her front hooves at him, dance around him and push up against him.

"I'll run circles around you" . . . .

“I’ll run circles around you” . . . .

Growing impatient, she races up and down the road and circles him in an effort to get him headed up the lane to visit the neighboring horses.  Feed Lot is a bit reluctant to go along with her schemes this morning.

"How can I go play if he won't come?" . . . .

“How can I go play if he won’t come?” . . . .

She is growing impatient and tears off up the road again.  Then she stops to think about her next plan of action.  If Feed Lot won’t come with her up the road, perhaps she needs to find something else of interest.

"I think I'll think about it" . . . .

“I think I’ll think about it” . . . .

Tilly stands in repose for several minutes, pondering what she wants to do next.  She wanders up to the driveway where I am freezing with no coat trying to catch her antics on camera.

"Guess I'll take a chomp out of this old wagon bed" . . . .

“Guess I’ll take a chomp out of this old wagon bed” . . . .

The remains of an ancient wagon rest in the grass adjacent to the driveway.  Tilly’s curiosity gets the best of her and she noses and sniffs, finally taking a bite out of the ancient wood.

"Wonder if I can reach that plant inside the fence?" . . . .

“Wonder if I can reach that plant inside the fence?” . . . .

A stalk of rabbit ears in the flower garden inside the fence draws her attention.  She works hard to try to draw it through the wire so she can have a taste.

"Got an apple for me?" . . . .

“Got an apple for me?” . . . .

Finally, she comes forward to greet me and check to see if I have anything yummy she might like.  We don’t feed her treats unless we can drop them in her bucket or feed bunk, but she never fails to check pockets.

"Can we go now?" . . . .

“Can we go now?” . . . .

Tilly races off to try once more to get Feed Lot on the move.  She is giving him a look that seems pretty clear she means business this time.

"Oh alright already!" . . . .

“Oh alright already!” . . . .

Tilly gets her man.  Feed Lot is resigned to following her up the lane, much against his wishes.  A cold wind is blowing and he would prefer to stay down in the trees or better yet, go to the barn and clean up a little bit of last night’s hay.

"We're off!" . . . .

“We’re off!” . . . .

Up the lane at break neck speed, Tilly leads the way.  Feed Lot is resigned to letting her have her way with him and plods up the road behind her.  How can he let his good friend down?

This unlikely pair became great pals in November of last year when they were thrown into the corral together as weanlings for a week.  They became  inseparable, and Feed Lot hangs around outside the barn where Tilly spends her nights.  His company keeps her calm and most of the time is a good influence.  But not always.  He tried to board the horse trailer while I was loading Tilly recently, and it got a bit crowded, to say the least!

Eagle Spotting

"Any signs of lunch?" . . . .

“Any signs of lunch?” . . . .

Eagles are a common sight during the winter months, and a recent outing for the annual eagle count turned up quite a few within a short distance from home.  The stately looking pair of mature bald eagles in the photo above were near the highway watching for roadkill. Their traditional food source of fish is unavailable due to frozen streams, so they must improvise.

"There goes the neighborhood, look what blew in!" . . . .

“There goes the neighborhood, look what blew in!” . . . .

I had just finished photographing the two eagles sitting on fence posts, when a third bald eagle floated in on the gusty winds, accompanied by two large ravens.  All this avian excitement must have been due to a dead antelope or deer carcass on the hillside.  There was nothing along the highway to draw such interest.

"Prairie dog town in my sights" . . . .

“Prairie dog town in my sights” . . . .

This golden eagle was floating along on the wind near a prairie dog town.  The pronounced white markings on his wings indicate he was an immature golden and he was the only one we spotted in the two hours that we searched.  We tend to see fewer golden eagles, who are a bit more reclusive.

Prairie dogs out for a bit of fresh air keep an eye out for raptors in the sky . . . .

Prairie dogs out for a bit of fresh air keep an eye out for raptors up above . . . .

The prairie was teeming with life in a prairie dog town covering several acres.  Each mound was occupied by a pair who were hovering near the opening just in case they had to make a dive for safety.  Sharp warning barks announce the arrival of danger.

Abandoned ranch buildings bear witness to better days . . . .

Abandoned ranch buildings bear witness to better days . . . .

What was once home to a pioneer ranching family, this old place sits deserted and lonely on the prairie.  The fan on the windmill blows in the wind, making the only sound.

The Thinker . . . .

The Thinker . . . .

Another mature bald eagle rests on the brace posts of the fence.  It’s a good level spot to watch the action on the ground.

"From up here, I can see forever" . . . .

“From up here, I can see forever” . . . .

This bald eagle and a raven (lower left) have chosen a tree top to scan the horizon for a meal.

To the east, the Pumpkin Buttes . . . .

To the east, the Pumpkin Buttes . . . .

To the west, the Big Horn Mountains . . . .

To the west, the Big Horn Mountains . . . .

Log remnants of  homestead cottage . . . .

Log remnants of homestead cottage . . . .

As our journey took us back toward home, we stopped to pay a visit.  An old homestead cabin where my parents spent the early years of their marriage now lays on the ground, moldering into dust.  The cabin was taken down and the logs laid out and numbered with the goal of rebuilding at ranch headquarters about five miles away. Too many years swept by and the logs stayed put.

A black horse hangs back . . . .

A black horse hangs back . . . .

We came upon a small band of horses running across the prairie.  By the time we could come to a stop and get the camera ready, they were out of sight except for this black horse, who hung back and watched us for a few minutes.  It tossed its head and took off after the others, apparently satisfied we were not carrying a bale of hay in the back of the jeep.

Which is it? . . . .

Which is it? . . . .

We had a hard time deciding whether this was an immature bald eagle or a golden.  The shape of the head looks like a golden, but it is difficult to gauge the length of neck or tail feathers in flight from this angle.  The wing fingers are more pronounced, and we ended up deciding it was a young bald eagle whose head feathers had not yet turned white.  In all, we counted eight eagles in about two hours of driving which was about an average number to be seen in the immediate area.  We will wait for the Bureau of Land Management report from other “eagle spotters” and hope these majestic birds are maintaining a healthy population.

Posts From The Past

Character comes with age . . . .

Character comes with age . . . .

The scars on this ancient cedar fence post are reminders of early settlements along Dry Creek.  Many fences, erected by homesteaders, criss-crossed the land where we reside and were built to confine cattle, horses, and sheep in pastures for grazing.  These gnarled old posts are sentinels protecting the past and stand silently along our walking path, growing more beautiful with ancient patina each year.

Last post standing . . . .

Last post standing . . . .

I can hear the bleating of animals, taste the dust from tractors, trucks and trailers hauling hay or grain or animals through the barnyard, coming and going from the corrals and holding pens that once connected this post to many others.  

Gate post holding on . . . .

Gate post holding on . . . .

As we have cleared rusty old barbed wire and rotted posts to make safe pasture for Abe and Tillie, we have been compelled to leave the old soldiers who have endured for so long. Some have born witness to dugout homes built into the creek banks where nearby seeps provided water for the early settlers; others were planted in the ground to divide the open range for the homesteads and small ranches that formed in the early 1900’s.

In the shadow of trees . . . .

In the shadow of trees . . . .

 As we observe the first day of the New Year 2014, it seems appropriate to look back at the bygone days of life here on Dry Creek.  We remember those tough pioneers who came here before us with great fondness, and wonder how they made it through the hardships they had to endure.  Our lives are vastly different in many ways, yet remain the same as we follow in their footsteps.