8/14/2017 0 Comments Harvest"If I am worth anything later, I am worth something now. For wheat is wheat even if people think it is a grass in the beginning." ~Vincent Van Gogh There are a few aspects of identity I am intrinsically tied to and harvest is one of them. From the time I could drive, until before I had Z, I spent almost every summer in a grain truck. Sharing and passing on the task to DW who still takes his turn. Now, it's been six years since I have done that, and my heart hungers for it. Not the sweat and dirt of it, but the efficient engine of it--the whirling, cutting, shifting tick of it that makes it speed by like the years I haven't been a part of it. The acreage we used to farm dwindles as my dad moves toward a hard-earned retirement, but I struggle to let it go. I didn't become a farmer, but I am one. I want my children to know the rhythm of the land, so we go for our day during harvest. They are quiet as they watch the swish of the header and woosh of the auger. They are in awe, and it is awesome. But, it is with a forward-facing nostalgia I watch the wheels turn knowing that forever isn't always and for them these are just fond memories while for me this is where I'll always be.
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S.M.(M).L.A farm girl, a lake girl, a nature girl raising sweet babies to be kind humans takes a lot of patience. Writing about the day-to-day brings the clarity it takes. This is that. Share your story if you can relate. Archives
January 2018
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