Farming defines our seasons. There is planting, growing, harvesting, and rest. There is no getting around it, everywhere we look, everywhere we hike, everywhere we drive, we see it. Spring is now officially here because the soil is getting planted.

It starts with the hum of that large tractor which gets so loud it feels like it might just be headed right for the center of our home. The pioneer boys’ ears are not deceived and they run outdoors immediately. For, they are about to witness the cycle repeat itself, the cycle that was going on while they were in Pioneer mama’s womb, the cycle that cradled them as babies, the cycle that springs them into childhood. The cycle of our farming life.

For the pioneer children here know what it takes to grow food, they know what it takes to pasture food, they know the trials of the farmer, they’ve even held on inside machines and watched the crops come down, and for that I am thankful. They are connected to the land and the machinery that tends it, much like the pioneer children of the past, and hopefully this can pioneer their futures.


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