“There are two spiritual dangers in not owning a farm. One is the danger of supposing that breakfast comes from the grocery, and the other that heat comes from the furnace.”― A Sand County Almanac
As the sun sets behind this farm in Iowa, not far from where I live, I can’t help but think it’s symbolic of our times. There’s no question that over the years, particularly those from the early 1980’s on, we’ve seen a notable reduction in the family farm. It’s hard to make ends meet in farming. When you rely on things as fickle as the weather, and commodity prices…well, you’re working with some pretty volatile things.
Some of my high school friends, their families, more specifically, ran small farms. I worked on a few…bailing hay mostly…it didn’t seem all that fun then. But it was purposeful. And although the work could be hard, hot, sweaty, and dusty…you knew you accomplished something at the end of the day. It was the first place I learned, that with every day, there was always something productive that could be done.
I miss these family farms. I think our country is the lesser for them not being here in great abundance.