The month of April always gets me thinking about T.S. Eliot’s poem, The Wasteland. Well, not the whole poem. All I can ever remember of The Waste Land is the first four lines. It is the part we all know:
April is the cruelest month. Breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain
It is easy to visualize those lilacs coming to life, the dried-out roots swelling with the rain. Anyone who ever had anything to do with a garden understands what Eliot is getting at. He’s saying that the weather in April can break your heart. You get to remembering how wonderful spring can be and – BANG – you get a foot of snow. That’s what I figure the first four lines of T.S. Eliot’s famous poem are all about. I have no idea what the next four hundred and thirty-two lines mean but they seem to be describing a land and a life that I do not know.
Because I am a rancher on the Great Plains I know about longing for rain in the month of April and I know that, in the 
spring of 2013, the lack of moisture out here is a matter of life and death. All winter long we knew things were dry and we knew that we had to get some rain this spring. There was very little rain last summer and nearly no snow all this winter. People keep trying to laugh it off. “She’s going to break loose this spring – wet snow, rain. Hell we’re only one good storm away from banner year.”
I didn’t sleep much all winter. I’d go to bed early and sleep until midnight or one o’clock. I’d get up, have a cup of tea, then go out onto the cold deck and look up at the sky. Every night my uplifted and hopeful face would be met by a billion stars. I don’t recall anything but clear, cold, cloudless skies. Some nights I’d read until three or four in the morning. When sleep finally came it was short-lived and fitful, loaded with visions of brutal winds driving the dry and dusty pastures that the buffalo absolutely need. I worried that the stock pond where the buffalo drink during the months when their calves are born held only a few inches of water. I rolled on the couch, looked at the ceiling, and promised myself that I would go out the next day and check the water level but when I awoke, groggy and a little sick to my stomach, I would be too sluggish to even leave the house. I had a hard time working and ate everything I could find.
March came in like a lamb and went out like a lamb. We don’t have ground hogs out here and the prairie dogs were no 
shows. No one wanted to predict what the spring and summer would bring. We got some wind and an inch of very light snow that was dry as talcum powder. By the time April arrived I was a wreck, pale white, ten pounds overweight, and no relief in sight. All winter long I knew that there was a terrible crunch of work ahead of me. We started bringing the buffalo in from their winter pasture in the last week of March. I was on an ATV all day long for five days in a row and we got seventy-five percent of the buffalo rounded up before it became apparent that there would no spring runoff and so no water in the pond that watered the calving pasture. Doug Albertson and I began to trench-in a water line from the adjoining pasture. We started work early and took no breaks except to bring in stray buffalo that we saw on the distant ridge tops. Mostly Doug ran the backhoe and I rolled out plastic pipe, smoothed the bottom of the trench with a shovel, cemented the pipes to the fittings, and backfilled the trench with the Bobcat loader. All along, before Doug even arrived, I fed a couple tons of hay per day to the buffalo because there has not been enough moisture for the grass to do much growing.
We didn’t bother with lunch and every evening I would drag into the house at dark with my coat pocket filled with dirt that had crumbled off the trench walls as I worked with the shovel. I was too tired to eat.
I don’t think that this is what T.S. Elliot meant by April being the cruelest month. I think he was talking more about the possibility of a rain shower spoiling his picnic. But maybe I sell the man short. Stress comes in as many forms as there are men on this earth. And who is to say? I’ve been falling into bed and sleeping straight through until first light. I lay in my bed like one of the basketball-sized boulders that have lain covered with prairie dirt for ten thousand years. They would be there still if I wouldn’t have wrestled them from that trench and rolled them into the light of day. I’ve lost a few pounds, and for tomorrow the weatherman is predicting a foot of wet snow.
Comments 10
I live in Minneapolis. We eat the meat from your ranch. My favorite weather man, Paul Douglas, writes that he is hopeful that our drought-inducing weather pattern is shifting, that we’ll be getting more moisture than we’ve seen for awhile. And sure enough, today we received some wonderful wet snow. We’ve been struggling with drought here, too, and although the drought’s implications are pretty much invisible to the average city dweller, it doesn’t take much imagination to come up with a long list of disastrous consequences should the rain and snow continue to avoid falling in our part of the world. I’m glad to hear you might get a foot of snow! Wonderful! We want your grass to grow, your water holes to be full, you and your animals to thrive. By the way, Paul Douglas’ blog is: startribune.com/pauldouglas.
We’re in a long dry spell here in Texas too. I fear it’s the climate changing and we’re all in for a different kind of life. Whether it’s a hotter or colder life, it’ll affect the crops and creatures we have grown to depend on for our sustenance. Coping and adjusting is one of man’s eternal challenges. As it is with the rest of the planet. Good luck there in my old stomping grounds. I know weather is your constant challenger.
We eat our Buff from Marlene’s and it is always great. We out here in WA state get more than enough rain fall but saw you guys got 30 or so inches of the white stuff. When we get it here close to the Puget Sound it is usually gone in a day or two but the rainy days last forever it seems. Hope you got all the trenches dug and the buffs got their water. Hopefully the snow will melt into the ground and help to make the prarie grasses abundant. How many calves do you expect this spring? Our buff guy out here had to sell his gang of 15 as he got too old to care for them any more so we miss seeing them and the new little ones each spring. Maybe you can post a few pix of the kids when they arrive. Until then, don’t work too hard Dan, Life is too short no matter what the poet said! Care. B&J
I live in Massachusetts where we have had a snowy winter and now a cold, rainy spring. It is drizzling as I write this with heavier rain expected later today. I send heartfelt wishes, blessings and prayers that the rains come your way.
My family and I have eaten your meat and love it. We are grateful for the work you do and the care, passion and love you put into it.
I so enjoy your writing as well.
Drier than normal here in NE Ohio, as well. Though “normal” seems to be a shifting quality. We’ve had a long, cold “brown season” with little snow. Finally received an inch of rain over the last two days. There are subtle hints of green at the edges of some of the shrubs. While I don’t have the health of a herd of buffalo to keep me awake at night, I do worry about our water well and the health of the woods that we we steward. Here’s hoping that the new normal includes enough moisture to serve all the needs of nature and man. Best wishes for a rainy spring.
Vermont, April 12th. Took the plow off the truck, the chains off, snow tires with studs off all the vehicles (all this to navigate our 18 degree driveway), cleaned out the woodstoveand NOW we have ice and snow and can’t get out. I will put on a winter coat and stand in the snow cooking some buffalo while thinking of warmer weather in SD this summer!
Dan, you got your snow. Now I’m wishing you have a slow melt. I am from Illinois, we have had our share, long winter. Althought it did restore the water levels. The farmers here are happier. I look forward to seeing the baby buff pictures!
We got about 2 feet of wet snow last week, and it’s snowing again. Hope you got some of it too!
Well Dan…. you sound just like half of us here in CO, even though we all don’t have majestic buffalo depending on us to water them. Our concerns are for the water levels for other practical, obvious, reasons. Drought is a devastating situation and I am always involved with environmental concerns, writing letters, signing petitions, donating what I can to promote awareness of the real water status of the world in general.
I want to thank you for further educating and bringing some further awareness of what lack of water can mean to just one ranch and its livelihood. Folks distracted in their man-made city life don’t seem to realize that one day their faucet could be dry….. the panic can’t be imagined now.
HMM Dan, Just an observation: Every Spring it seems there are always spring flood fears/warnings for the red river etc, one would think the army corps, states, conservation, preservation groups could come up with a way to reservoir and/or direct all that water elsewhere even if it meant digging some canals to channel down to the areas in dire need and then tank trucking/pumping it around into streams, creeks et al,,,,,ye$$$ but would create some jobs and be doing alot more good. Needless to say …. Dispense with the multi million dollar impact studies and govt bureaucracy crap and git ur done!