Until we moved, I was an East Coast city gal. I was used to being surrounded by crowds and traffic and buildings and noise. I didn't think I could survive if I lived farther than 30 minutes from the nearest mall. So, my husband was as surprised as I was when I agreed to move to Central Oregon. Called a suburb without a city, I am more surprised at how much I love living here. I love the lack of traffic. I don't mind the smaller sized versions of stores. Maybe cause of the internets. I think my husband misses the city more as there is a lack of a decent electronics store here. I remind him of the internets. However, it was one of his joys to take half a day to go wandering through Frye's.
Me, on the other hand, I've come to take on more outdoor activities. Yeah, I'm shocked, too, and somedays I sit and laugh at myself. About a month after moving here, I found Pine Mountain Observatory. They were just gearing up for the season and in need of volunteers. I volunteered. Coming up is my third season as a star guide and I can't wait. I love it. I absolutely love spending my summers freezing on a mountain top saying the same thing over and over to hundreds of people in the span of a few hours. I love sharing what I know. I love teaching the truly interested how to use a telescope and hearing their gasps of delight. I love each discovery I make even though millions have discovered that same object before me. It doesn't matter. I haven't seen it before. It's a major thrill.
There's a ranch at the bottom of the mountain and it's the West. Cows are allowed to graze on public lands. So, they swarm over the mountain in the summer. They seem to have some special affinity for me. I'm not sure if it's because my car is the same color as some of them and about the same size, or if I have some kind of steer charisma.
At any rate, this causes them to stand up and come into the road from the side of the road when they see me coming. Honest, they get up enmass and lumber into the road and just stand there. They won't move. They're in front of me, behind me and on the slope above me.
I had to get out of the car, lay on the horn and wave my arms hoping I wouldn't get kicked. Hoping they wouldn't come closer.
What was it the cows wanted from me? I have no idea. But, this happened every week until the cows were moved. The rancher came up to the obseratory a couple of times and I told him about his miscreant cattle. He was extremely amused, said something about the cows getting bored. Seems I am good steer entertainment.
Will they torment me this summer? Somehow, I don't doubt it. Who'd have thunk I'd turn into a cow toy?
