Our Farm

The land we live on belongs to my in-laws. We rent half of it. It is several hundred acres.

The farm stretches to a distant tree line, leaving vast fields of family property. There is white house under construction, a part of four plots of land that had to be sold as directed under Grandma's will. The land was bequeathed to my husband's aunts, who wanted nothing more than the dollars. They also wanted a lot more money than any of us could come up with to purchase the property so it would remain part of the farm.

The sale included the old family home, an 1810 structure made of bricks. The bricks were made by hand from mud on the farm. The walls of the house are 18 inches thick.

The famly is, as the saying goes, land rich and cash poor. Most small farmers find themselves with that problem, I think.

If you look closely, you'll see on the left that a power line runs through the property. You can hear it buzz when you walk under the lines. It is a main artery for the area and when it goes out so do the lights for miles around.

I fear one day this land will all be a subdivision, with lots of new houses. But that is not my decision or my choice; I truly have no say in the matter. Meanwhile, I enjoy the serenity, the tranquility, and the lessons the land brings forth each day. The wisdom of nature of boundless. I must always remember to listen.