Due north of Bovina Lies the remains of Shaw community. For years this had been the focal point of many local. Here was their Post Office, gas station, general store and dance barn. Today it is a pasture with rubble piles here and there.
Gone are the signs of yesteryear, well almost. Nearby are numerous empty homestead’s. Within a mile are about 6 abandoned farm houses and there are foundations and cellar depressions for another dozen or so homes in the area.
At one time these buildings mad up a community of around 2-300 people. Near by was the country school. Over there a short distance had been a church. It was everything a homesteader could want.
On the weekend a neighbor down the road would be the entertainment for the dance that evening. The tinkle of the piano would roll out the doors of the barn across the prairie as the feet shuffled across the barn floor. Sometimes it would be the screech of the fiddle or maybe a harmonica. The moonlight would bounce off the mason jar as it tilted to the lips. The glowing ember of the cigarette beamed out of the darkness. It was a brief respite from the hot days in the sun working in the fields.
The land was worked to provide a living. No lunch pails to the office. Out the door to the shed, hook the horses up and head to the field. With the sun dead overhead, it was back to the house. Water and feed the horses. Go inside for lunch and a short noontime nap. Horses rested and watered, it was back to the field, working under an unrelenting hot sun till it began to set. Then the evening chores began, drive mild cows home and begin the milking, run the separator. With the cool of the evening sit down to an evening meal. Listen to the little ones talk about their day and go to the front porch to play.
Before the sun rise it was up for chores, Mild the cows, let them out, open the chicken coop, slop the hogs and get the horses ready for the day. After breakfast the day continues in the filed following the horses. There were no time clocks, no weekly pay checks and the doctor made house calls.
A whole different way of life that is hard to grasp. No such thing as a 40 hour work week.
The rhythm of life followed along with nature t a pace one could only follow.
The golden eagle, stoically watches.