Today I hauled some alfalfa compost out to one of the new windbreaks to apply to the little golden willows. The job would have taken minutes, not hours, except that most of the tree fences were nearly disassembled and required reshaping and rewiring. Many of the t-posts that the fences been fastened to were also bent this way and that. The black hairs stuck in the fencing, trampled ground, some broken willows, and the many cowpies revealed that the culprits were of bovine ilk, and they must have mistaken the tree cages for scratching implements. Ironically, there are two mature tamarisk trees (a weed and a nuisance, in these parts) only yards away that they could have scratched on.
I’m tempted to take back every good thing I’ve ever said about cows!
“A bruised reed He will not break, and a dimly burning wick He will not quench….” –ISAIAH 42:3