My daughter wanted to go to a farm and thought we needed snacks for the car but I said it’s just thirty minutes away. She brought Oreos just in case. And two bottles of water, a stuffed lion, and a deck of cards. Twenty minutes later, we arrived in the Swan Valley.
We hopped in the back of a truck and the farmer drove out onto the paddock where we hand-fed cows cabbage and tomatoes. Their tongues were long and coarse, and scratched our palms as they slurped up their salad. My daughter told me to distract the pushy one with the horns so she could call out to the shy one. Juicy tomato for you, come here girl. I put my face close to a brown cow and she licked me. Her eyelashes were an inch long and her nostrils blew air that smelled surprisingly sweet.
Eight piglets were born recently but the mother sat on one of them so now there were seven. Good thing you didn’t sit on me, my daughter said. I told her I could sit on her now and chased her but her legs are like harpoons and even in her rainboots – she calls them gumboots now – she easily outran me. The piglets were just as fast. We didn’t try to catch one because the mother was watching us closely and, for someone who smothered her baby, was very protective. The big pigs ate piles of lettuce and onions, and whole melons in just three bites.
Hundreds of chickens paraded by in stop-motion. One rooster launched himself on top of a chicken and mated with her while biting her head. I don’t think she wanted that, my daughter said. I said I agreed and then mumbled something about the natural world.
Later that night, we got into bed and played Would You Rather. A farm for two years or Tokyo for two years? She said a farm if she had her family, but a big city if she were alone. We talked about her sister who is down south with friends and her father who is in a big city on the other side of the world. There are so many ways to live, I said, yawning.
Our family will move back to San Francisco in July. We will leave this land of infinite space, this land of stories and sharks. I will seek out California farms so we can hold baby chicks and slow everything down. I will swim in the bay and the cold water will once again save me from sorrow. I love Australia but there are many other ways to live.