There are so many different shades of green here, it can’t be described. But the one that is most prominent these days is the fresh yellowy-green of the tiny corns peeping through the soil. The fields are blankets of this color stretching across the landscape. From some angles, you can see the rows threading along. From others, the green is just a solid sheet. As the baby stalks get taller, the green color darkens slightly.
Last summer, when I was here, there was a deep drought. The rice-grass lake in front of my sister’s house, barely had enough water to support the Sandhill Cranes that nest there every year. The crop was compromised, and each day my farming brother and the folks listened to the forecast of more sunny days ahead, and paced, and worried.
This year, life-giving rain fell at the perfect time. The corn fields are breathtaking, and now, we are having forecasts of rain everyday this week. Feast or famine. Yesterday, more than two inches of rain fell. There are parts of some fields underwater, the rice-grass lake has expanded way beyond its acceptable edges, and the listening, pacing, and worrying are for not so much rain. There is concern about the possiblitiy of hail and strong winds.
Until I came to the farm, I didn’t appreciate the delicate balance that is the day-to-day tightropewalk of growing crops. I am not sure the general American public realizes what farmers do for us, how hard they toil, and how much we are all dependent upon what is brodcast on that weather channel. Feast or famine. It is not just an expression.
Meanwhile, the corn’s up, the sun’s out, and fog lies gently on the fields!