The Corn Harvest

It's been awhile, hasn't it?

Well, here's what we've been up to since I last blogged. First, the kids have been in prime form, spending their days playing outside and riding along with the guys in the trucks and combines. My mom likes to say, "Around here, we raise free-range children." Want proof?

There ya go.

The land has turned from a misty-gold to a deep, brown-gold, and when a person stands very still by an unharvested corn field, the swish-swishing of the dried leaves as the breezes pass is like the sound of the ocean. It's pretty amazing, really.

But the truth of the matter is this: there isn't much unharvested corn left in our area. Many farmers are entirely done with harvest season at this unheard-of early date. We've got two large fields of corn left, but my dad has found he's got more corn than bins (what a problem to have in a drought year!). This means that the smaller bins around the farm site will be drafted soon, but they've got to be prepped first.

Here's something you may not know: many of the beautiful silos you see on farms these days are not actually used. They are the epitome of a traditional farm, but they are also costly to maintain, and they are used more for cattle operations (silage storage) than for farming and grain-storing purposes. They certainly do make for lovely photos, though.

Some afternoons, when the kids are feeling cooped up (or I am), we walk to the fields where the guys are working, if they are within a reasonable distance. It's a good chance to look closely at the land as it is ripening, down to the smallest of plants. Even the animals become more visible this time of year. The pheasants are really clustering as the row crops disappear, and large herds of deer have been gleaning the fallen ears of corn. Soon, the primary species we'll see in our neck of the non-woods will be hunters.

We may not see much of the autumn reds across our horizons, like we do back in Minnesota, but if one looks carefully...

...it's there! The wild roses offer a veritable sunset of colors during this time.

When Matt sees us coming, he finishes filling, and then heads over to the edge of the field to unload.

"Hey-ya, family!" he calls. "Come to ride along?"

"I'll come and get the kids. Stay put. And you're a farm girl...don't you know better than to wear flip-flops to the field? Get thee some boots, lady!" And he has a point, really.

The minute Jonathan sees the combine has stopped, he starts loping over through the stubble and stalks. He's wearing solid shoes, of course. "DAAAA-DEEE! BRRMM-BRRMMMMM!!" he calls.

 "Alright, kiddos, let's go!" Matt says, and he scoops them up. To a mama, there's nothing more sweet than a sight like this:

 When we've all crowded on, we put the buddy seat to the test (or the buddy-buddy-buddy seat, in our case).

The first time Grace combined corn with my dad, she was about two. She sat quietly, taking it all in, and then turned to him and said, quite seriously, "Grandpa, this is AMAZING." And really, it is! Watching the ears of corn get mowed, tumbled, and then somehow turned into showers of corn behind our seat is downright miraculous. Jonathan summed it up nicely: "Wow."

We've been blessed with a safe, successful, and stress-free harvest this year. That's about as much as a farmer--or a group of practice-farmers--could ask for.