Cow Weather

Husby and I are fighting the flu.
We're not sure, yet, who's winning.
So, a repost . . .

Ha! I KNEW it was going to snow!

“Look to the cows,” said Dad, the wise,

“And you will come to realize,

That by their actions, you can tell,

The weather patterns, fair or fell.”

And so I watched, and so I saw

That he was right, my smart ol' Pa!

And he knew what he talked about,

If you're predicting rain. Or drought.

The cows, they crowd together tight

And you know cold will be the night.

They seek the shed and shelter warm

If rain or snow will be the norm.

And stand out grazing peacefully,

If sun and warmth are meant to be.

Against the breeze, their tails they turn 

Kept safe from wind's more nasty burns.

But just today, I got a scare,

From cows around me everywhere,

For when I stepped outside my door

And glanced towards the purple moor . . .

(Oops, Alberta's where I live, you see,

And so I meant the wide prairie.)

My cows weren't where they're s'posed to be,

They sat on branches. In the trees.

So now I have to figure out,

Just what they're telling me about.