At the farm

I have known those hands all of my life
and many times I have looked at those hands,
at big rough hands that worked the fields
and calluses in their palms tell a story
and the fingers are big
and when they grab they hold on.

Those are very strong hands
but they are gentle when they touch the family.
Those hands sowed the wheat
and harvested the sheaves,
those hands planted maize
and brought home the first ripe corn.

~ from The Hands Of A Farmer by Daleen Enslinstrydom

Perhaps I should start by sharing that we are from farm people. My father's parents both came from farming families. Daddy grew up on the farm and told many stories, some heartwarming and some terrifying, about the land and about the family. Mom's folks were more on the business end of farming - I don't know if any of them ever drove a tractor or  plowed behind a mule (maybe Roberto as I think there are few things he didn't try).

My brothers worked for my uncle in the summers. And we still have shares in the family farm. Still, my truth is that I am a generation removed from the land. And I know very little about farming "back then" or now.*

Great grandpa J.W. broke the ground for the first time with a steam tractor. The land was part of the Taft Ranch.

An old barn on the family property

and an old cistern and water tank

I know that it is hard work. And I do know that I am happy to see the corn and grain and cotton in the fields. It makes me feel like I am back home.

Field of grain - storage complex and barns in the distance

I was "back home" not too long ago and was blessed by the opportunity to spend time with some of my brother's good friends on their farm.

BR grew up farming for his father and now farms in partnership with his brother. I knew his family (everyone knows everyone in a small town), but not well. His wife, CR,  grew up in an even smaller nearby town. The story of their meeting is legend (I have heard it with smiles and laughter from each of them).

Their farming enterprise is large and complex.** According to one of their four boys (I quizzed the youngest one day), they grow sorghum, cotton, corn and sesame. The grain is almost ready to harvest and I think corn is next. The cotton may be late this year. Sesame seeds will be last harvested.

But these folks raise more than boys, cotton, sorghum, corn, sesame and dogs. They raise spirits. They share their love of each other through their honest, hardworking, living of their lives and caring for the people in their lives. They have a deep and abiding respect for one another which radiates and reflects in their respect and concern for those around them.

Laughter rings out at meals, during game nights, and as stories are told. A host of friends, neighbors and family are in and out of their home all the time. I have never seen anything like it. Some people may talk about open doors and open arms and boundless welcome, but these folks really mean it. They live it - all day, every day.

So, this is a thank you and my way of honoring this wonderful family. They have inspired me in ways I could not have imagined. They have changed me (and I am an old dog - hard to change).

I still may not know a lot about farming, but I know so much more than I did a month ago. And I know I want to go back to see some of the harvest, play with the dogs, tell some stories, lose at dominoes, set off fireworks, ride a cotton picker again, and share in the blessings of this family.


Assorted photos:

The grain was just too beautiful, gold and brown in the sunshine -

Figs -

The figs were a dark purple - almost black - and delicious!

I think this is a buckeye butterfly that has found a dried fig.

Dogs - I drank my coffee with these two in the mornings -

Tanner new how to stay cool by the ice machine.

Ringer wanted attention.

Old rusting equipment whispered some of the history of the farm -

A work of art or instrument of torture. It once broke the ground.

Oh, and I got to ride on a cotton picker (as it was headed for the dealership to be traded in on a newer model--round bales of cotton!) -

This is a pretty impressive piece of equipment (see the ladder you use to climb into the cab?).

The trip was about 15 miles - past many fields.

This machine is equipped with loads of rear view mirrors.

Crossing an overpass was something.

A landmark was coming up on the right.

Destination.

NOTES:

* I spent a day with that same uncle stomping cotton and Daddy took us out to pick cotton by hand when we were little. Daddy wanted us to know what hard work it was. I recognized it was hard and hot and dirty.

**My brother drove me through the countryside and showed me many of their fields. Harvest must be very carefully coordinated, I am sure. While they may say, "you just go in order of planting," I know there is more to it than that. Which field got rain and when? Which grain has ripened first? How do we move the equipment most efficiently?



So if you faithfully obey the commands I am giving you today—to love the Lord your God and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul—then I will send rain on your land in its season, both autumn and spring rains, so that you may gather in your grain, new wine and olive oil. I will provide grass in the fields for your cattle, and you will eat and be satisfied.

Deuteronomy 11:13-15