just cows 7/19/25

Every day on the road to the barn, I pass a herd of angus cattle.

In the heat of the summer, they bunch together in community to share the benefit of group tail swatting. The guy lying in the foreground bears the rancher’s brand. I couldn’t believe it when I first saw it. Apparently, he does his job well.

The flies bite and are unspeakably annoying.

There are some girls who exhibit a strand of Hereford in their lineage and present a colorful contrast in between her all-black herd mates.

Often the calves are at the edges of the herd without much benefit of the tail swatting. Sometimes one will simply hunker down in the tall grass and dream of another land.

Unless she is disturbed by the unfamiliar clicking of a shutter.

Here, a calf at the edge of the herd is allowed close enough to receive some fly-relieving-swats.

Each cow is different, not unlike people. Throughout the years, I have watched calves being born into the winter snows, being separated and removed to be sold and hearing the lonely calling of their moms. Each season the rhythm is the same. I have witnessed nine of them and it never gets easier.

As I process today’s images, my heart feels the sadness of their fate.

I will either become a vegetarian or accept the gift of a cow’s life to nourish my need for protein. It is not an easy choice. Meanwhile I honor them with my portraits of these lovely neighborhood sentient beings. Enjoy.

Elizabeth