Monday, May 15, 2017

Drive - A Memoir 111th Installment

the ant was screaming! I guess he didn’t like to fly. An ant can scream or at least squeak. I know it’s true because I heard it.

Ooohkaaay,” Russell stretched out the okay to amplify his doubt about my experience with the ant. He went on to remind me of the time we went hunting and noticed several flocks of sage hens flying over the hill into the field beyond. All the flocks came in from different directions and headed to the same place. We got curious and took off in the direction they were landing, and as we came over the hill, we saw about a thousand sage hens covering the one ten acre field. We’d never seen more than five or ten sage hens together in one location let alone a thousand. This was a strange sight to see and us without a shot gun.

Ooohkaaay” I said mocking him like his story was as odd as mine. Seriously, though, these things do happen. Animals are linked to Mother Nature; they know things and do things that astonish us humans. We were stacking hay at Spoon’s place one afternoon. It was a very hot midsummer day – and dead still. I mean, we could toss a feather off the ten layer hay stack, and it would float straight down. We were standing about fifteen feet in the air on the stack between the loafing sheds. The loafing shed is a roof supported by strong wood poles where the animals could get shelter during inclement weather. This mountain of hay was mid feedlot where about a hundred cattle were being fattened to be sold, slaughtered and eaten.

Other than the heat, the day was perfect: cattle were lowing, the birds were chirping, and the insects were buzzing around our heads. Russ and I were talking, laughing, sweating, and working hard.

Suddenly Russ whispered, “Do you hear that?”

I hear nothing!” I didn’t hear anything.

That’s what I meant,” he explained. “Dead silence! Not a moo, not a chirp, not a buzz.” The silence and the dead stillness were supernatural, uncanny and mystical for at least twenty seconds.

Suddenly we heard the roar of a freight train, thunderous tearing, ripping, screeching of nails, and snapping of wire. A large piece of the loafing shed roof ten or fifteen feet across erupted in the air to an unbelievable height and spun down, apparently on us.

Get out of the way,” I screamed.

Where? We’re trapped up here! We’ll have to jump for it!” Russ cried. We scrambled to the edge of the stack and luckily didn’t have to jump. The roof had broken up and the largest piece had crashed into the other side of the hay stack. We covered our heads with our arms and danced around trying to avoid the falling debris. Now the cows were bellowing and running around trying to escape the corral. There was still

500 more words tomorrow

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