Welcome to my world and beyond...

A collection of snippets of the books I write and, occasionally, my life and the things that inspire my writing...

Saturday, April 6, 2013

A to Z "F" Farms

Ahhh, there's just something about a farm...

Maybe it's in our blood, each and everyone of us.  When humanity improved upon being hunters and gatherers, we became farmers, custodians of our own little plot of ground--even if it's a few pots on a city windowsill, or planters on a suburban deck. As humans, we emerged from a life of roaming, to a life of sinking roots, literally as well as figuratively.


Western Pennsylvania, USA, is known for its rolling hills. And that is one of the big challenges in farming here--the terrain. It also makes for some tragic stories. Farming, as an occupation ranks high among dangerous jobs. Add steep hillsides to that, and the risk greatly increases.  Twice in my dad's lifetime, he rolled a tractor. Thank all that's good--he managed to jump clear both times. Sometimes that's not the case.
The rolling hills give way to steep hillsides as the fields drop away to the creek bottoms.

We are just beyond the southern terminus of the glaciers during the last ice age. So our valleys weren't gouged out deep and wide by glaciers. They were carved by eons of moving water, some of them, one trickle at a time; that's what makes our hillsides so steep. Forests on top of hills--and part way down were cleared off for fields. The steeper land was used for grazing animals.

I grew up on a hillside. My dad used to kid us that we each had one leg longer than the other--so we could stand straight.

Photos: From the top of the neighbor's hill looking toward my home in the woods, and at the valley I grew up in:


Generally, the farms here are old.  Many are Century Farms--an historical recognition of a farm having been in the same family for over a century. My family farm is a Century Farm.

It's evident how the fields end where the valley gets steep.

Farms were a way of life, and are now a dying thing. Road frontage is sold off, parents die and have no children who want to farm, so the inheriting child sells off. It's almost always a developer who buys the farm. Industrial farms have replaced larger family farms.  That has its good and bad sides.

While I sit typing on this western PA spring evening, the sounds of existence are outside my window. But they seep in, barely noticed until I listen. I'm overcome with what I hear. The quiet rattle of wind through the red tips of awakening maples, and the chorus of peepers in the hollow below the house. They are announcing the return, the rebirth, a tale of hope, of life... once again being told.

Life on a farm... It's all about life and death, it's about feeling the earth in your hands and comprehending that it is part of you, and you are part of it. It's the song of forever that the creek sings, and the smell of newly tilled earth in the spring. It's the lone tree left standing in the middle of a cleared field. It's memories of teams of horses that plowed the fields, and the laughter of children who knew no other life. It's the creaking of the stairs in the old farmhouse, as small feet climb alongside old and tired feet.

I have more springtimes in my past now than I have in my future. And that, though bitterweet in many ways, brings a certain wisdom, and a profound sense of humility and wonder along with it. How blessed to have lived long enough to feel the seasons change, not just see them change; how fortunate to have glimpsed the grand scheme.

30 comments:

  1. This is a beautifully written post, particularly the last paragraph. How fortunate indeed!

    Have a lovely weekend, Teresa.

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    1. Thanks, Dana! I hope your weekend is wonderful, as well. :-)

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  2. Love your post, just beautiful.



    Cynthia (The Sock Zone)

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    1. Thanks for visiting, Cynthia, and for your kind words. I'll have to look you up on the A to Z linky. I can't find you by clicking on your name. :-)

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  3. love these homey posts =)

    reminds me of my grandma's place in brookville, pa. so quiet & peaceful after a long days' work. and yummy homecooked vittles!

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    1. Thanks, Tara. :-) I was at Brookville not too long ago. It's such a pretty little town. Even that close to I-80, it's managed to not grow into a huge town. :-)

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  4. I'm in a rural area so farms everywhere. You can tell it's finally spring by the smell;) Our claim to fame in Wyoming county, NY is that we have more cows than people.

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    1. I've heard of Wyoming County's claim to fame, lol. Love it! Thanks for visiting, HS. :-)

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  5. Beautiful post, Teresa. There is something about a farm. Especially a small farm. The area we go to in Spain is rural, and that's part of what makes it so peaceful and restorative. The villagers there are always working in the cycle of life, just as you described it. They live by seasons and cycles and the sounds of nature instead of just noise. Your pictures capture that atmosphere.

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    1. Thanks, Elizabeth. Some of your writings, along with your husband's photos have struck me this way. :-)

      It's a good way of life--and a hard way of life. There's so much to be said for the simplicity of it. Most of what I wrote is from my childhood. The world today for farmers is all business, complete with 9 to 5 stress, plus worrying about the weather. :-)

      Thanks for visiting!

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  6. I was on an old farm homestead last wkend (turned into a B&B) no one wants to farm/ it's hard to compete.
    You memories strike a chord in my childhood. Never had a tractor roll on me but my grandfather did when he was in his 60s - the dog came to fetch help. Dont know how they pulled him free; he got in bed and was fine in a few days. The soil makes hardy folks
    Thanks so much for your visit and for the memories...

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    1. Thanks, Moondustwriter! :-)

      What a great story, the part where the dog came to fetch help for your grandpa! Have you written it down for future generations?

      Thanks for visiting! :-)

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  7. Elena shared this with the gang and I love it. Your perpective on this way of life is right on for me. Vanishing, hard work, close to nature, life or death, family. Very nicely expressed.

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    1. Haha! I love Elena. She is such a dear soul--so thoughtful, so wise! And thank you, for taking the time to visit and then to comment. It was probably a hassle getting that comment to stick. :-)

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  8. My family is full of farmers. My grandfather, my uncles, my mother. I think the gene skipped me.

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    1. lol--I';ve heard that genes do skip generations, just like that. Thanks for visiting, Nana! :-)

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  9. Beautiful imagery...from a rural town myself though not so many hills--farming is def a way of life Inspirefly

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    1. Thanks, Kimberly! An entire community can be affected by a farming attitude ;-) Thanks for visiting. Happy A to Z ing! :-)

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  10. What a beautiful post. Even if you're not all about farming (I grew up in a farming community, with farmers in the family, etc.) you can feel this in any place where nature is allowed to flourish. This is why I'll never love a city. That feeling of awe and wonder is only alive where there is fresh air and growing things.

    Happy Blogging!
    Kaye Draper at Write Me

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    1. Thanks, Kaye. "...you can feel this in any place where nature is allowed to flourish." Yep, agreed!

      You can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl.

      Thanks for visiting. :-)

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  11. Well done, Teresa. Are they drilling oil there now? I will go to my ancestral place sometime in the near future and will think of your words there. I've learned recently that there may be some rolling hills also and some scrag brush.

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    1. Not for oil Carol, but fracking is going crazy here now. Natural gas in the Marcellus shale beds. There are three huge drilling platforms within a five mile range of our house right now. I expect one to be drilled very close to our property within the next few years. It is quite controversial here.

      I'm so touched that this post resonated with you! Your ancestral place is where? I think it's fantastic what you are doing--getting it on paper for your children and grandchildren and so on and so on :-)

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  12. The world is waking up! What a delightfully evocative post. It resonates especially well with me because I grew up in Pottsville, PA and those sounds and scents and ragged vistas are all too familiar. Thank you for this sensory stroll back to my youth. Cheers.

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    1. Pottsville is a beautiful part of PA, and your hills there were much taller and steeper than any we have here ;-) You are welcome for the sensory stroll! Thank you for visiting. :-)

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  13. What a wonderful post, I felt the beauty of farms. Dropping by from the A-Z Challenge,Lucy from Lucy's Reality

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    1. Thanks for visiting, Lucy. Your photos are beautiful. :-)

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