Fall Tillage and Farmers
Just the sight of Fall tillage makes me smile. Anyone connected with farming smells a picture like this as much as we view it, maybe more than we want to admit. There is something about ground being opened in the Fall, something about the manner in which soil rolls around the tillage tool, something in the sound of the tractor pulling the tool and something in the sound of dirt opening and closing behind you which makes a farmer's heart happy . . . and the smell, the smell of Fall time tillage is luxuriant.
Fall tillage is essential for the coming crop year. Though not every acre of soil can be tilled in the Fall, due to erosion risk and crop history, those acres which can be tilled, weather permitting, are often done at something of an angle to the planting direction to facilitate cutting through layers of compaction. Yet, more than that, deep Fall tillage buries some of the refuse from the previous years crop, allowing for a more rapid rotting of the plant into needed humus for the field while facilitating the cold of Winter to do its best at freezing and thawing, which conspires to break the ground up even more so that the coming year's crop has an excellent seedbed in which to grow. Farming is year round work with no one pass of the equipment serving only one purpose.
Though I know in my soul there is great good in no-till farming as a method to preserve the earth on which we live and from which we draw much of our sustenance, still, there is something just as good about timely, well-placed and well-done tillage. No one method of farming has every answer, every benefit, every advantage. Much of what is done in farming in these parts does not translate to farming in other regions. Soil types, crops and weather all differ, as do the requirements each of these things demand of the one who stewards them. As a farmer is to the world where they labor, so God is with the Creation God is at work creating: There is always more to do and there is always something to learn from what has been done.
I make no apologies for my bias, for I truly believe that farmers and gardeners come the closest to heaven each day as they labor hand-in-Hand with God: They are the stewards of the Home, keepers of the Records, tenders to the Food-Source and ombudsmen of the Holy Meal. They know the difference between the lowing of cattle and the distress of a herd, they read the winds and measure the sun, they savor the smell of manure and manage the difference it makes in the fields, they know the boundaries of their farms as well as the fertility of each acre, they can hold an egg or a puppy with equal regard seeing the potential each has been given, and they can fix the broken planter or the shattered water hydrant with the calm efficiency of one who knows they are never alone. Though they buy retail and sell wholesale and the markets have the power to make or break them at every turn, still it is the need to excel, the hunger to do better, the desire to hone the art of farming and the thirst to accomplish God's justice in caring for and feeding everyone that drives the farmer most of all.
If you don't believe me, just watch a farmer work the fields, watch them walk the headlands and rub a head of wheat to expose the grain, watch them linger along a field road while checking the crops, watch them as they run a feed wagon or pat a sow on the head, watch them as they kneel down to check the seedling or hold a clump of soil up to their nose, farming is more than a vocation and farmers are more than their fields. As God spins the stars into being, so farmers plant new beginnings in the soil as well as their herds.
Yes, there are those who despoil the name of the farmer by their arrogant, willful practices and attitudes, even as there are those who taint the cause of doctors and nurses by their disregard for the humanity they tend, yet always the best rise to the challenge and the tenacious set a new standard of excellence. The work is not done when the crop is in, neither does farming end when the shed doors are closed. Always there is more to do, great love to be expressed and a table to be set where all are welcome.
Incredible, the smell of the soil in the Fall, which even a picture can conjure, and awesome the wondrous new beginnings it portends for those whose blessing it is to nurture the earth each day on our behalf. As only Paul Harvey was capable of phrasing it, "Then God made a farmer . . ." and all the world was given Hope.
Something to ponder on the journey.
(c)dcw2020
Photograph (c)Debbie Renth, 2019. Used with permission.
