The first calf of the year was born on the Veeder Ranch last week. That afternoon I went out on a walk to clear my head and to climb to the top of a hill to see if there were any mommas off alone on a hillside or in the trees, a pretty sure sign of some birth action.
But I didn't see a thing.
So then, because it's been warm lately, I decided to scope out the hilltops for the first crocuses, confident that I knew just where to look because years of early spring crocus hunts on this place have taught me such useful things.
But I struck out again.
Yes, to me the world was still brown with a few splashes of white snow in the deep coulees and, except for the dang hornets that have magically come to life to bang against the windows of my house, no sign of new life quite yet.
I strolled home with the dogs sniffing out the path in front of me, on their own mission for signs of spring, kicked off my shoes and went inside.
That evening my husband and I loaded Edie up in the pickup to go feed the cows, and just as we were pulling out of driveway, I got a text from dad.
"Got our first calf today," it said.
"Of course we did," I said out loud to myself, wondering when the heck I will develop the sixth sense and laser beam eyes Dad has for things like this. We met him down the road a ways and Edie helped him unroll a bale by pulling out handfuls of hay and picking a nice strand to chew on herself.
We drove over to take a look at the new baby who was standing on wobbly legs, fresh, slick and black as a bean. When my husband came back with the tagger (because we never have what we need when we need it), all four of us lingered out there in the warm spring air, leaning against the pickup doors and letting Edie work the windshield wipers, radio knob, steering wheel and headlights of the parked pickup, certain she was accomplishing the most important task on the place that day.
After a half hour of solving life's problems, we all went home for supper.
The next day while I was in town for a meeting, I got another text from Dad.
"Found them first!" it said, with a blurry photo of a bunch of crocuses attached.
Apparently he also knew we were in an unspoken contest.
I put my hands on my hips and huffed.
"Of course you did," I texted back, thinking if it couldn't be me, at least someone found the first promises of spring.
Thinking how different the world can look behind another set of eyes.
Note: My new book "Coming Home," a compilation of my favorite stories, recipes, poetry and photography, is available now. Order it online and find a schedule of book readings and concerts in your area at www.jessieveedermusic.com. Thank you for reading and sharing your stories with me. I hope I see you out there!