There is something about a fog that distorts perspective. It can unnerve us and it unnerves livestock. A heavy rain a few nights back left us with a dense fog before sunrise. Heading out to feed I heard the cattle bawling. Cattle bawl and we are always alarmed. The sound often heralds a lost calf, escaped steers, injured cows and errant bulls.
As I neared the barn I saw the steers lined up by the pig paddock. The edge of a hill dropped off behind them creating an illusion that the world ended at their feet. They were bellowing into the fog in the predawn. Answered by the cattle at Mr. Kyle’s and echoed by another herd down near Johnson Valley.
I counted head and all were home. Continuing on my rounds I checked their hay, well stocked. Still they hollered, twisting and looking in all directions waiting on wolves that didn’t exist, I imagined. The echoes of the other bovines bounced around my ears as I finished the feeding.
I came back inside. But twice over the next two hours I went back outside to recount. I was sure I was missing something or some steer. Each time they were all on our property.
The sun rose over our hill at 8:45. The fog began to thin and was gone by 11:00. The sounds of the cattle in the valley gradually faded with the mists.
