It’s near mid-October and farmers here are running their beans in quick order. That’s the way it goes. The harvest window seems small no matter what the crop. When it’s ready, if the weather’s going to hold, you run. Sometimes it seems like you wait for the clouds to part (literally) and angels to sing while aligning all of the correct elements for the best crop possible.
There’s a cold front rolling in over the weekend forecasting rain aplenty. The last few days have had the air full of clouds of bean dust as anyone around here with a field of soybeans races against the clock.
We personally don’t raise food crops on our little mini farm but I still watch the skies and fields with bated breath hoping my family and neighbors can get it all done in time. I understand what’s at stake for the small farm. Missing the golden harvest window could cost dearly. Maybe you get another chance while the crop is prime, or maybe it rains so much you can’t get back in the field for days.
As I’m writing this we’re watching one of our favorite YouTube farmers. He also is combining beans. He just said “this is a stupid occupation”. I bet every farmer has thought it from time to time.
Yet this is how I watched my family make ends meet my whole life. At least that’s the goal; come out on top and not in the red at the end of the season. The constant cycle of sowing seeds, spending time and money on maintenance (machinery, sprays, fertilizer) praying for weather to cooperate so everything grows well, waiting and more praying until it’s go time- then praying all of the machinery stays in working order until harvest is over. When the fields are barren, the trailers have all been emptied at the elevator, and the equipment is all stored back away, it’s hoping it all paid well enough to reinvest everything to do it again next year.
So why do they do it? So many reasons. Each farmer has their own list. Whether it be what they love, or what they know; the smell of fresh dirt, hay, grease and fuel; the signature haze in the air laying in a heavy blanket below the descending sun they’re trying to beat; the feel of the rain when they need it the most or the hot July air when the mown hay needs to dry; or maybe the satisfaction of knowing they made it another year as a member of a shrinking minority called the small farmer. It’s pride. And I don’t mean in a haughty way.
I feel a sense of pride when I think about how I was raised. I love that our kids see what it means to eek out an honest living from soil.
Tonight as one of our neighbors drove his John Deere combine back into the field after an off load my son noticed a huge bald eagle standing right next to the remainder of the beans where the combine was headed. My husband commented “there’s nothing more American than that”. Apparently the driver of the combine had the same thought because as he approached the majestic bird he stopped to hop out and get a picture. Approaching rain or not he felt the need to capture the moment. I smiled at the opportunity to witness his appreciation.
This is what I’m talking about. If you know, you know. It’s in your heart. It’s in your soul. Farming isn’t an occupation as much as it is a way of life that is deeply woven in who you are.
Maybe that’s just my opinion. But that’s how I see it.
creatingalovelyhome 