Combines dance, hand to shoulder, waltzing with grain carts big as houses through fields, their song like water pouring. They hand their grain to semis to haul to bins that…
“The harvest is ended, the summer is past and we are not saved” rattles through my mind like a chant this holiday season. I have bowed under the yoke of…
It’s been a long harvest this year, with crops around here not dry enough to pull out of the field when we had our dry spell. Unless you’re making silage,…
A couple weeks ago, the farm came alive with men at work. It’s not every week we have two different crews working our land at once. Beaux our hay guy,…
It’s been a week since Booker’s been gone. The community a person gathers on social media is more meaningful than the experts give you all credit for. That simple “I’m sorry” brings…
Back in October, the combines were buried in the corn, moving slower than I’ve ever seen them, the corn taller than the cabs. These huge machines waded in slowly, look like…
Friday July 18, 2014 – Sunday July 20, 2014 It’s been a long summer waiting to drop our hay, waiting for four days straight of dry weather, and every week,…
DAY OF THE DEAD I watch the earth boil and break bright green pushing up row upon row, an army risen to stand at attention until its cut. Wheat shoots…