This may be its last season of productivity as farm land. I grieve the inevitable changes as do many passersby, who along with me have enjoyed the changing seasons on the farm.
Today, I happened to come by when the workers were harvesting the grain. I remember when they first plowed and seeded in the Spring. I took pictures shortly after the green shoots came up and cast their color on the contours of the farm.
I hope you will enjoy these photographs as much as I enjoyed taking them. ..........Sharon
A tractor makes its way along the fence line
And drops the seeds precisely in a row
If the rains are kind and the winds don't take the topsoil
Before too long the crops will start to show.
The farmer sees the fields around him growin'
He whispers something low beneath his breath
Perhaps a little prayer to help the growin'
Perhaps a word of thanks for all the rest.
A baby child is born along the highway
A tiny little thing upon the land
An okie with his dreams out on the byway
Lifts the tiny baby in his hand
The woman smiles a little smile of knowing
And whispers something softly in his ear
Perhaps a little prayer to help the growing
Perhaps a word of comfort through the fears.
There's a storm tossed ship tonight out on the ocean
There's a soul somewhere adrift out on the blue
There's a dreamer with his eyes upon the heavens
They're all looking for a way to make it through.
You trust the moon to move the mighty ocean
You trust the sun to shine upon the land
You take the little that you know
And you do the best you can
And you leave the rest to the quiet faith of man.