I remove the straw hat from my head, and wipe the sweat from my brow with a big blue handkerchief. The wind is hot today as I stand by the fence row. There lies before me, a painters palate of color as I Look across the fields of summer.
The light green grasses are tall and heavy headed. The wind blows
across the pasture and gently bends the prairie carpet low with its invisible palms,
and then releases it upright again. Red and white cattle dot the meadow as they feed
from it , and two horses,a roan and a bay, have their necks stretched through the fences, feeding on
grass that must be “greener on the other side”. This seasons’ calves are butting
heads with each other playfully; except for the few that are napping in the shade of their mothers
feet as she grazes.
The pond glitters with the reflection of the
golden summer sun. The hot wind ripples the water and causes the geese to bob
up and down, as they glide slowly across the shimmering blue/ green surface. Some of the cattle are slaking their
thirst at this water retreat, and one cow has decided to wade on in. She drinks heartily, as she enjoys the
cool water half way up her body.
Heat rises in a cellophane mirage from the rusty metal roofs
of the barns and sheds. Gnats twirl in a dizzying ball above the grass
along the wooden and barbed wire fence . Martins and barn swallows dive bomb for other
insects, their svelte bodies look like vintage airplanes in a dog fight across the
clear blue sky.
The wheat fields are beginning to golden. Soon the combines
will reap the thick ripened heads, and truck loads of grain will make their way
to the shiny silver grain bins of the farm or elevators. Square bales of straw will line the fields like soldiers on parade, as they await the wagons that will carry them to barn lofts. This winters bedding it will be too, for creatures large and small, and it is waiting to be harvested.
Other fields are turning
green with standing corn and recently sprouted beans. The stripes of brown dirt in the green acres will slowly melt away, as the corn and beans grow thick and tall in true Midwestern farm fashion.
There is only the sound of the wind in the grass as I stand, one foot on the bottom fence rail and my arms crossed on the top one. All the cattle are contented and quiet. The tails of horses and cows swing silently to and fro to ward off the flies. The fair weather clouds tiptoe slowly through the sea of blue. I take it all in, and feel that I am grateful to live in rural America, where this picture before me is not a post card... but everyday living.
It is a scene of beauty, and I hate to leave it, but the leather gloves in my back pocket speak of work to do, so I must move on. I take one more look around, put a stalk of grass in my mouth to chew on, then walk back to my truck. As the engine responds to the key in the ignition, I sit for a minute, take a deep breath and fill my lungs with the unpolluted country air.
I smile as I start off down the road, the wind blowing through the window, and dust rolling up behind me. I say to myself, "It's good to have you back, Summer. We've sure have missed you here in the Heartland."
