Luna in meditation

 November 26, 2007 – Rainy, cloudly. Luna, like my other cows, is something of a philosopher, I think, a true contemplative in the Trappist sense. Cows have great equanimity, and I admire it. Their wants are simple – food, water, shelter, tails to swat away flies, occasional corn or grain, and, in the case of my cases, access to a good view of other cows whose lives are not so fortunate.
   Luna is a creature of routine, like most cows. If you feed her at 6 a.m, she will appear at 6 a.m., at the same spot, for the rest of her life. She loves Elvis, and is always around him. Weather seems not to matter to her. She is philosophical about the cold, heat, ice and even mud. She is not philosophical about her hay being late, and can moo loudly enough in complaint to shake the farmhouse. But she is definitlely a fixed point in a changing universe, a creature who doesn’t need yoga or therapeutic massage, as she is well versed in the ways of consistency, equanimity, relaxation and the long view.
  Two or three times a day, the cows meet, gathering at the fence, where I sometimes appear with apples or candy bars, or at the back of the barn door, where Annie or I will emerge with grain on cold days. Sometimes we are there, sometimes not, but it doesn’t really matter, they gather as if by prearranged signal, and then, without much complaint, gather somewhere else. They inspire me to be even, calm, to have equanimity.