Cattle ranches are like miniature cities in a way. From the minute the sun comes up, until it goes down there are always the sounds of production happening. Calves bawling for feed in the corral, windmills squeaking in the breeze off in the distance, horses stomping the ground in playful banter with one another and an assortment of birds chirping in the trees. The only car horns that you might hear honking is that of the cake pickup calling cows in for their breakfast. Steam rises off the river in the distance as it cuts its way through the valley on its way eastward. The picture is all so surreal, kind of like a Charlie Russell painting of times past, but there are days where for a moment time seems to stop, the world stands still, and everything is quiet.

                  Often, I find that these days happen this time of the year. The weaned calves have been shipped off to town and snow has fallen and covered the ground with a blanket of white. The quietest days seem to follow some of the loudest. When a northern blizzard blows in from the Rockies to the west and the wind howls and blows snow into drifts for two or three days, the quiet comes in the first calm day after the storm. Usually, the quiet won’t last all day, sometimes it’s only for a few minutes first thing in the morning, but the peace that is present is like none other. Frost usually paints murals on the windows of the house and hangs from the branch of every tree. When you step outside to face the day the cold air stings at your lungs when you take your first breath. The sky is so clear that you can see for miles and miles on end. The usual sounds of wildlife and farm animals are silenced by the overwhelming sound of stillness.

                  I am the first to admit that winter is not my favorite season of the year. Frozen tanks, tractors that wont start in cold weather and chores that take twice as long are all reasons why winter doesn’t make my favorites list, but without winter, I don’t think there would ever be days where the ranch went quiet. There is something so very peaceful about stillness. I have a fond appreciation for times when silence takes over, and I have learned to pause and enjoy these times while they last.

                  This winter as you go about your busy schedule, try to find the times where the day goes quiet. It might be in your car on the way home from work, or with your spouse sharing a cup of coffee in the early morning hours. Whatever that time is, or however long it may last, be thankful that it found you when it did. That’s all for this time, keep tabs on your side of the barbed wire and God bless.

Meinzer is a fourth-generation rancher raised on the southeastern plains of Colorado. He and his family live and ranch in Oshkosh, Neb.