Daily Flash Fiction entry Dec.29 2020.
|Once upon a long time ago, during our dairy farming decade, I once followed my nose (AND gut-feeling—significantly removed from that olfactory organ, thankfully!), finding myself on the longest walk, in an ever-increasing and bewildering circle with absolutely no idea where I was. Lost in a paddock… who would believe it?.
It must be mentioned, we were brand-new to dairying in this 'pea-souper-fog' , as I attempted to bring in the cows for milking. My seemingly never-ending 'circles' were a result of not yet encountering a paddock fence. If I could just find ONE of those lifesavers, I'd at least know to head in an uphillwardly direction. THAT piece of knowledge was a definite; house and dairy sat atop the highest elevation of our new farm.
Simultaneously to me encountering a fence (in a not so desirable way, being full-on and painful), the first of our herd of cows loomed out of the mists and silently glided past me. I couldn't believe it. All my calling into seeming nothingness had yielded results after all. The 'girls' were coming in on their own.
All I needed to do was arrive at our designated meeting house, as well. Having no idea how many cows had chosen the dairy as their destination, I simply headed uphill… a wise choice, as it turned out. And hereby came one of the earliest lessons about milking cows. They ALWAYS know what they are doing, even when it sometimes appears to be the opposite of what the dairyman desires.
I would learn… on a day such as this, just stand at the top of the paddock and call. And words from the old nursery rhyme sprung to mind —
…leave them alone and they will come home,
wagging their tails behind them.