Kickass, the doorstop dog, reports that the keeper and Phyllis, back from their tour of the Rustic Roads of Green County, were impressed yet again with the seasonal growth that has made a corn maze of the entire state and filled the roadside ditches with a wondrous bouquet of blossoming “weeds.” Blue and white asters have joined the tall yellow sunflowers and the goldenrod to weave a protective jungle for the pair of fawns that cavort briefly on the roadside and then slip out of sight like delicate little sprites of summer.
In their exercise of using Rustic Roads to shun the political insanity of the times, the keeper and Phyllis ignore the occasional road signs that proclaim fealty to one who thinks of the natural world only in terms of exploitation and profit. The farmers who have suffered mightily under the auspices of current trade policies, must have their reasons for erecting those signs. The keeper wonders if they see a stock market that is wildly profiting from the coronavirus as something wonderful for the 20 million people who are unemployed and now wait in food bank lines and bankruptcy courts?
So it occurred to the keeper that he cannot know what those rural sign erectors are thinking any more than he can know what their cattle are thinking as they stare back at him and Phyllis from across the pasture fences.
Being curious about a cow’s thoughts may be peculiar to former farm boys, and the keeper needs to up his mental game as he and Phyllis go on down the Rustic Roads.