HARVESTING THE CORN

When we look West from our home we see fields.

Fields of corn taller than an elephant’s eye.

It blocked our accustomed view of the ocean bound freighters

Through the long, hot days of summer the corn

whispered secrets

Rustling and gossiping.

The harvesting began.

Like some prehistoric creature the harvester swept through row after row.

It arched it’s neck and spewed everything in its path into thundering trucks.

Row after row.

Then silence.

The harvester stopped.  The trucks stopped.   Repairs went into the second day.

Now it is a race against the weather.  We all prayed and held our collective breaths.

Into the night without stopping until

 

FINISHED.

 

I felt like shooting fireworks into the night sky.

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13 thoughts on “HARVESTING THE CORN

    • When the harvesting began my dear friend and neighbor Angela and I stood watching. We both felt it was a thrilling sight and sound. Just one more reason why we so love living in the country. Hugs V.

    • I rather miss the corn. It enclosed us so snugly. And I loved the sound as the wind blew off the river and through the corn. It was these wind warnings along with the rain that had everyone harvesting crossing their fingers and sending many prayers heaven ward. Virginia

  1. What a lovely description of the corn harvest. I love the gently rich colors you have captured with the work. I hope it was a good harvest!

    On the coast where I live we see cotton and grain harvesting in late summer near our home at the edge of town.

  2. Harvested corn means corn chowder to me : ) Your landscape certainly changes for the season doesn’t it. I’ll bet you’re glad to have the machine noise gone!!!! Thanks for sharing the pics of your little corner of the world : ) With great affection….Ginny : )

    • Ginny dear friend. So lovely to hear from you. Living in the country surrounded by farming fields means the landscape changes from season to season and from year to year. Next summer we wont have the corn fields. Perhaps it will be beans or potatoes. The farmers in this area exchange fields in order to practice crop rotation. The farm we live on is a dairy farm. The corn harvested is for feed. Not to have taken it off before the heavy winds and rain came was imperative. Believe it or not the noise doesn’t bother us. We listened through the rainy night for the last truck to finish. Reassurance that our farming friends were successful in this operation. Hugs Virginia

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