A muddy solution

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist

If I could have written the story, a light rain would have fallen only briefly, bright blue skies would have been crossed by occasional white clouds, and the temperatures would have rested peacefully in the 70s, but I did not write the story.

Days of pouring rain finally did stop, but we still could not mow. Even though the skies were clear, our footsteps left muddy imprints in the tall grass. Humidity lingered in the valley as the temperature rose steadily higher, but finally the ground seemed dry enough to ride the mowers out to the orchard, around the barns, and along the road. Muddy tire tracks now cross much of the green, but at least the grass is at a reasonable height.

I've begun wonder, though, if the mud in the pasture will ever dry. It lies in boot-sucking pits around the water and food troughs. My chore boots sink in so deep that the mud comes completely over the foot. 

The only way to walk from one side of the mud pits to the other is to pull my heel up slowly and then allow the rest of my foot to follow. This maneuver takes an amazing amount of muscle work to accomplish. I know there would be no way for me to move quickly from one side to the other. Thoughts of losing my balance and falling are truly terrifying.

The simple solution, you are no doubt thinking, would be to avoid passing through the mud, but with our current pasture design, this is not possible. It’s true that pastures are wide open spaces, and ours is good sized at about three acres, so yes, it is a lovely wide-open space, but its inhabitants are varied. 

The cattle have their supplemental feed sprinkled with a dash of minerals. The sheep have their special treats and they cannot eat the cattle feed. It is the same with the horses. In short, they each have their individual feeding requirements. Thus, we have built two feeding paddocks.

I call the cattle and they run right over to their paddock and I quickly close the gate behind them before the sheep arrive. Then I lure the horses into their area, and lastly, the sheep get their treats in the wide-open pasture. This system works, and it gives me the opportunity to brush and love the cattle while they eat. The same holds true for the horses and sheep. We have our individual time together, which I treasure.

The only real problem is the cattle paddock. It lies in the morning shade at the bottom of a slight dip in the field, and thus the quagmire thrives. Both cattle and I have to pass through it to gain entrance. 

When I open the gate and the cattle pass by, they splatter the mud not only on themselves but on me. While I wear knee high rubber boots, they wear mud boots that rise half way to their knees. They happily eat out of their trough, which is thankfully on high mud free ground, while I brush them, spray fly repellant across their backs, and we talk. It really is a perfect way to start the day, with the exception of the mud.

So, Greg and I have conferred, and the cattle have concurred. Today we are going to the farm supply store to purchase two more long sections of tubular fencing, and a small tubular gate. We will make another feeding paddock uphill from the first, but still keep the first one intact. 

This will allow me to feed the cattle without passing thru the muddy pit, and perhaps allow it to dry. And then, when the vet comes for his yearly visits, we will be able to have each group of pasture inhabitants enclosed in a small area before he even arrives, far easier than trying to corral them once he gets here.

It has now been days since the last raindrop fell, and we are still dealing with the wet it left behind. I have come to understand that this is that life is like here in the creek valley. One challenge follows another. We are never bored. I wouldn’t have it any other way.