Fall marks the
winding down of warm summer days, consuming fieldwork, and late nights waiting
for the sun to set so sleep will come. Along with the beginning of school and
the harvest, my family looks forward to the State Fair. Showing our registered Holsteins is an annual event. We connect with 4-H and FFA
youth who bring their animals, food, and crafts to prove their prowess at
completing a project.
We have become accustomed to the evening
concerts, great food, and traveling acts. Often, we follow the crowd to stages
featuring shows with lion tamers, high divers, and endangered animals. There is
something for everyone at the fair.
This year, during
the second week of the fair when the cattle barns were nearly empty, something
happened that caught the attention of many visitors. Children, adults, and the
State Fair Board made their way to the dairy barn. A jersey cow, awaiting the dairy sale, had a
heifer calf. The mother and calf rested in a large enclosure on a thick bedding
of sawdust. People pointed, shared their amazement in hushed voices, and went
away having experienced, for that tiny moment, nature at its best.
Since I live on a farm, the
new calf was not a novelty to me. Still, I watched with pleasure as it took
hesitant steps on wobbly legs. Watching the crowd was even more enjoyable. With
exclamations of delight, children pushed against the gates to get a closer
look. A timid smile played on the face of a father trying to explain, in proper
terms, the feeding moment. There was more than one grossed out exclamation when
the cow relieved herself.
Along with the
calf’s birth, I had another unusual experience during my stay in Salt Lake City. While
relaxing in a downtown park, I heard noise on State Street.
I saw people, in what appeared to be their bathing suits, walking down the
street and supposed they were youth going swimming. I was busy and didn’t pay
much attention to what was happening until the increased noise caused me to
look again. Curious, I wandered over to State Street.
When I reached the sidewalk, it was obvious the people on the street were not
children nor were they wearing bathing suits. I looked up the street that led
to the State Capital then down toward the city. As far as I could see in both
directions, the street was full of a moving mass of humanity. Taken aback, I
asked a fully clothed passerby what was going on.
He shook his head
and shrugged. “It’s an ‘undie run’.”
Bemused, I turned
away and walked back into the park. My thoughts didn’t turn away so easily.
What was the point, I wondered. Were they trying to prove something, following
the crowd, or were they just bored? Surely, there was a solution to all three
problems. Then I thought of what seemed like a perfect solution. A V-8
commercial helped me put my thoughts into words—They could’ve gone to the fair.
