As the first rays of sunlight crept over the hill, I noticed him. The large, black steer was in the same spot the night before – the corner of the pasture two houses down, next to the fence along the road. He lowered his head and then reared it back up and issued the most unusual sound. It was a cool morning so steam came from his mouth as he bellowed his protest.
I observed the steer the three days we stayed at the house down the road. He had about 10 acres in which to roam yet he spent most of the time in the corner of the pasture. His food and water was in the other corner and he had many other cow friends he could have visited with but, nope, he stayed close to this corner, occasionally letting out his strange cry.
Was he protesting his circumstance, was he ill or was he calling to a pretty Guernsey across the road? Who knows what goes through the minds of cows? Do they even have minds?
Anyway, as I observed this steer, standing in the corner of the pasture, looking longingly across the road for what seemed like hours, I thought he was not unlike many of us.
We all have fences in our lives, barriers that keep us from our desires, the way we think our lives should be. It may be in our health, our work or our relationships. We have things beyond our control that create a life that, perhaps, we weren’t expecting.
Do we stand at the fence hour after hour, bellowing and complaining about what is out of our reach or do we accept and live in our circumstances. Do we stubbornly focus on what we don’t have or do we turn around and take a look at our blessings.
Who knew that a steer could teach me a lesson that early morning.
I looked out the window towards the rising sun and noticed that he had moved from his sentinel post by the fence and was munching on the grass in the middle of the pasture.
I guess he figured the grass was just as green on his own side of the fence.