This isn't the only tree we have found that has been well rubbed by cows but it is the biggest, and best example of it. I have talked to some tree experts, even taking one to see it, and they figure it is at least 300 hundred years old or more. A lot of the bigger junipers here are. In fact it is a bit odd to find a baby tree or seedling. In this shot my husband, Lee, and our border collie, Tuffee are taking a rest under it. The housing develepements are now with in a mile of where this tree is and develepers simply bulldoze these beautiful trees down when they want to put a house there. To them it is just in the way of their making more money. To me it the death of a magnificent part of our desert.

Old Juniper Tree

This is an old juniper tree that I have been watching out on the desert to the north of my home for about 25 years. This tree looked like this when I first found it then. Juniper trees on our desert grow very, v e r y, v v e e r r y slowely. (Ok, enough play on words). But they do. And they are very hard. In fact so hard that I have heard it is very difficult to cut them up for firewood with a chainsaw. With our winds they become pitted, and imbedded with sand. The sand stays in the wood forever. This tree happens to be just off a dirt road that is well traveled by both trucks, ATV's and motorcycles. I am not sure if there are cows in there now or not. There were when I first saw it. The tree was old enough to be big enough to entice the cows to stand under it for shade. The cows would rub on the lower branches to get into the shade better or to scratch their thick hides. Every one in a while a lower branch would break. The cows would keep rubbing making the branch ends knarled and mis-shaped. In effect they would polish the old, hard stump of the branch. You can't see it to well in this shot but the wood looks like it has been polished by a human with a machine. Some beautiful colors in it. The shade was to heavy for it to show real well.

Memories Shouldn't Die

I have been trying to write down all the memories I have of my life and the memories that were told to me by my parents and grandparents, aunts, and uncles, and, of course, friends. It is harder than it seems. At the same time I have been trying to put all the family photos into some kind of order. It has turned into a huge project. I grew up an Air Force brat as my dad was in the Air Force. We lived in four sections of the United States at some point so traveling has also been a big part of my life and memories. And I want to travel more. I remember my grandmother who we called Gram telling about how she and her family rode in a covered wagon when they left Mousori to move to Texas when she was three. She lived to see men fly to the moon in a space ship. I am desapointed that I didn't write down more of the stories she told. She is gone so the stories are gone. My mom and dad are gone, too. So it is up to me and my sisters to remember as much as we can and write it down so it won't be forgotten. And we have our own memories to add to their memories. Hopefully our children will want to know them as we wanted to hear our parents stories.