Fantasy Apart from Reality

Once when deciding on what we should do, one night, a great friend and I cruised around town. This little farm side, being one of my favorite places; I decided to bring him here. We walked along the fence to look out into the valley watching the cows. He noticed the "No Trespassing" signs along with the countless locks on the gate door. "Maybe it's to keep the drunks from cow tipping out at night," I said jokingly. He told me a story about how in Mexico his dad would do it with his friends and the next morning the cows would be dead, due to not having some type of bone and having their guts spill out and internally bleed to death. I thought this was a cruel form of humor for one drunken night, but then something about the story didn't make scientific sense (of course, myself-- being secretly a bio nerd, I looked this up).

 "Let's get this out of the way: Cow tipping, at least as popularly imagined, does not exist. Drunk young men do not, on any regular basis, sneak into cow pastures and put a hard shoulder into a cow taking a standing snooze, thus tipping the poor animal over." ("Cow Tipping: Fake or Really Fake?")

(http://modernfarmer.com/2013/09/cow-tipping-myth-or-bullcrap/)

Jake Swearingen, author of, "Cow Tipping: Fake or Really Fake?" explains to us-- with a sense of humor, how slim the chances of cow tipping really are, he uses a zoology doctor to explain the physics of cow tipping. He also interviews a farmer who has grown up and lived on a pasture for almost all his life before retiring, selling his farm and moving away. The farmer, like the zoology doctor, both give reasonable evidence on cow tipping. They say the cows are far too heavy and shift their weight against the person to stabilize themselves, proving to make an imagined fantasy-- unreal.

Here's a diagram of the doctors thinking:

From the works of , University of British Columbia student, Tracy Boechler and doctor of Zoology, Margo Lillie.

Regardless, It's still manageable to hurt the animal in the process of trying, either mentally, emotionally and most possibly-- physically.

I find it ironically funny how we find humor in the horrible and perhaps lethal situations, that we're to face in reality. I like to think it's due to the fact we tend to set our life in a fantasy to keep us from taking life so seriously and living freely without much care. 

Work Cited

Swearingen, Jake. "Cow Tipping: Fake or Really Fake?" Modern Farmer. N.p. 4 Sep. 2013. Web. 26 Oct. 2014.

The Three Magical R's

I would always complain about the amount of trash left on the farm side near the road and on the bank of the creek. Until I decided to do something about it. The night before Wednesday, there were huge gust of winds; I could only imagine the amount of trash being thrown around and spread.

I arrived to the creek before getting to the farm a good forty-five minutes before sunset. I picked up trash around the creek, but I was disappointed I wasn't able to get it all. Standing on a steep hill above the creek, I couldn't reach too far down the creek to get plastic bags clinging onto branches from nearby trees. Trash, under branches from fallen trees and beneath bushes, were too far into the woody jungle to be able to reach it all.

The place's trash told me a story about this little farm and creek; the trash consisted of: fast food paper bags, cups and condiments (also from fast food joints), coffee travel cups (Starbucks mostly), beer bottles, beer and soda cans, plastic bottles, old used up spray paint cans, and broken glass bottles. I found countless cigarette boxes and cigarette butts thrown into the dirt, I imagined the people who would get away from home by saying "I'll be back, I'm going for a walk..." and have a smoke while at it. The underage drinkers who would throw out the evidence before getting home to rid themselves from trouble. Fast food living by their fast food oath of being quick and tossed away then forgotten. Spray paint cans used up and tossed after a long night of street art, and shattered glass, dangerous for the animals to accidentally step on.

Field Notes 10/13

Field Notes 10/15-- Trash inside the creek.

Field Notes 10/15-- Trash inside the creek.

                                      

While I continued to pick up forgotten pleasures, the sun bent through the spotting clouds of the fall evening. Cold, windy and colorful the sky shot up colors of bliss like a firework show. Pastel pink orange, and blues filled the sky followed by the light gray of clouds. 

I felt as if the world was thanking me for such a small drop in its vast and beautiful ocean.

Sunset on 10/15 Field Notes

   

                                         

All Fine & Dandy

 

A long awaited fall break is finally here, if it wasn't for the spiced coffee and tea, candle lit rooms, and semi colored trees, I would say it's still summer vacation. When I arrived to the scene I started at the creek to make my way down to the sandy side of the road (where I usually just sit while I look out into the valley). Something about today gave me an artificial feeling. Have you ever seen a Japanese anime? Usually at the start of every chapter there's a scene full of trees (sometimes rustling, but usually still), birds going about their day chirping (mostly just stationed and not always seen), and some sort of running water. This creates peace (that everything is fine and dandy) and anticipation when something is about to go down (we all know that nothing could stay almost perfect forever). This setting gave me some creeps, it sounded just like this, and with pastel colors shot across the sky the visuals were just crazy on point.

(There's supposed to be a recording here. Technical difficulties, sorry.)

 

I knew this peace wouldn't last forever. Sure enough the next day when I went for a walk and thought of doing an extra entry for my field notes, there he was, red, white and blue lights hit everything visible to the white car. A police officer walking around (as I would when I observe) looking for answers, clues I thought, but for what? Did someone die? Drugs? To prove someone guilty/innocent?

I didn't want to interrupt or be suspected for something, so I left.

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The days warmth tricked me, and when it was time for the show of the setting sun and I got ready to watch, the breeze would pick up making my loose clothes ruffle and running chills all up my spin. As the sun continues to set dark begins to fall, the moon lighting one half of the scene in the navy blue sky (making my imagination turn it into yin-yang), the mountains become silhouettes now in the shade. The cows also watching the natural occurrence, lay in the middle of the grassy fields relaxing and getting ready for the night. 

10/9 was Toms (stylized as TOMS), a non-profit company I admire and could probably say I swear by, Day of Sight. If you're not aware of them they give One for One, which means you purchase one pair of shoes and they give another to a child in need and now expanding their trademark they sell sunglasses to also help not only kids, but people who don't have the luxury, to get eye exams and prescription glasses to help them see. They asked their costumers what they believed sight is for them and how that simple pleasure helps them, even if it's a simple task like driving to and from (you may find this pointless, but hold on I'm getting there).

Pondering this question I went to do my observations and came to the conclusion that this right here, being able to analyze and absorb the natural things we fail to sometimes take time to admire, is what I find sight to be. This project is definitely bettering this act. 

Getting happy nervous chills and anxiousness that bring slight tears to my eyes knowing how small and how easily I could be forgotten, yet how grateful I am to be alive to experience this gorgeous sight. As much as I tried and still try, I don't know how to take in all this beauty. Is this what love feels like? Not being able to explain the feeling, but just feeling? I think it's safe to say I'm in love, not with a person, but with this world. In all her awfulness hurt, with all her glories of being perfectly imperfect. Her reality of the truth, I Nelida Mendoza am in love with Mother Earth. 

(didn't date this in camera) Field Notes

10/6 Field Notes

10/9 Field Notes

The Eye of The Beholder

 

 Where has the sun gone? The smoke from the King Fire falls into the valley of the city and lingers heavy in the mountain range causing a thick foggy caste over the farm. By the sounds of it, it's also had its effects on the birds and insects, there's not much chirping or clicking from the little critters. The trees also seem weepy, like the smokes taken their energy causing them to have troubles breathing (the sun has also been hiding behind the thick smoke all day). The smell of burning wood mixed with the slight ash from the mess teases me, giving me a runny nose and irritated droopy eyes. I'm only human, known to be one of the strongest creatures, I could only begin to imagine what effect on the animals the smoky poison can cause.

As soon as I get to the scene to observe the sunset (which is not much of a sunset because you can't have a sunset without a sun), I rush over to get a full look at the valley. The cows looked a little startled, (maybe because there's some weird person looking and snapping pictures of them) they're usually always down in the grassy valley doing what cows do. Sometimes, if they're lucky enough, they're put inside a long, not too wide, farm building (to protect them from coyotes I suppose). The air quality is horrible, I worry about the older cows, who naturally are already having a hard time breathing, what are they thinking? Maybe they think it's the end? 'cause believe me I had to trick myself into thinking it wasn't.

The road so lonely, no one wants to be out in the smoke. The abandoned, old, and worn down farm buildings start coming to life in the harsh atmosphere. Silent with a slight breeze, the grey valley instantly turns from peaceful bliss into a foggy battlefield. My mind turns this image into a long awaited zombie apocalypse, until a car zooms by snapping me back into the reality of the situation. This is life. The devastation of the fire is just part of life. The calming after the storm is also a part of life. Life is beautiful, life is ugly, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What you find a dream might be a nightmare to another, and that's the real beauty there. The cows, struggling and scared, when usually scattered and forming cliques on the field, come together in one group to keep each other company. The smoke, in all its bad is also good, gathering people home and buying everyone quality family time and giving us a well needed reality check that nothing last forever.

Field Notes 09/22