A Pre-Plant Poem

A Pre-Plant Poem
by Harvest Land

Spring days are getting longer as we start to break the soil

Traffic slows behind equipment driven by local men of toil.

With a warm snap moving through you can almost cut the anticipation

Every move we’re about to make is a result deliberate conversation.

From plant to harvest, and plant again, we’re in a series of decisions

Analyzing data, selecting hybrids and programs and considering provisions.

Sometimes we forget how much promise can be in one tiny seed

Part of our job at Harvest Land is ensuring they get what they need.

We’ve been thinking about this crop since walking through the last

When time passes in seasons of work you come to realize just how fast.

Going forward our days will be designed around the warm sunshine or the rain

When you live your hours according to weather you come to terms with gain or pain.

And so we move into another planting season with anticipation far and wide

In high hopes that good help, weather, supply and parts all live in a time that coincide.

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Rain Makes (More Than) Corn

Spring storms have been unforgiving in much of the country over the last week. Our trade area, which includes eastern Indiana and western Ohio, has seen its share of rain, but we’ve experienced nothing like the destruction that moved through Oklahoma. It’s always easy to complain throughout the day about not getting in the fields…until you turn on the NBC evening news and Lester Holt’s lead story covers the F4 tornados shredding the helpless Oklahoma plains.

lester holt.jpg

Untimely rain makes planting season tough.

Untimely rain makes farmers frustrated by slowing their progress.

Luke Bryan has a special (slightly annoying to some people) way of reminding country music listeners that rain also makes corn.

 

While that song painfully gets stuck in your head,

we thought this week we’d take a look at:

rain makes

Rain Makes Farmers Catch Up on Book Work

Some things seem to go by the wayside when the wheels start turning and thstack paperwork.jpge seed begins to drop – and book work is one of them. I mean really, who wants to sit at a desk and balance numbers, pay bills and sort paper to achieve some kind of order when you can be in the field? No one.

So when the rain falls, farmers kind of get forced to bring organization to chaos. You can only sit in the cab of your 8100 while the rain comes down outside for so long before you become the talk of the township.

Rain Makes Farmers Spend Money

While you’re in the office catching up on book work, it’s only fitting that you stop to look through a few magazines that have gone unread, maybe catch up on a few emails, perhaps search the web. You may even – as the rain continues – sit back in your chair and think of all the improvements that you’ve considered over the last six months to 25 years to advance your operation.

To work smarter, not harder.Stack-of-Magazines-600x399.jpg

To keep up with changing technology.

To set your son – or grandkids – up for success.

The rain, as it turns out, emits some sort of special signal to farmers to move forward with making plans and finalizing decisions and spending money. Where do you think the term “rainy day fund” came from? Rain can get spendy.

Rain Makes Farmers Reconnect

I met an industry partner for lunch at a restaurant on the other side of the county earlier this week. It was a rainy day, preceded by a rainy night, and the perfect time to sit down for a meal that didn’t come from a Ziploc bag. During our visit, a local farm family came into the restaurant and I couldn’t help but watch their arrival in, out of the rain. First through the door was the great-grandmother: the matriarch of a successful farm family. Behind her came the great-granddaughter, blonde ponytail and maybe five-years-old; her grandmother, who had held the door, followed the child. “Three generations of farm gals out for lunch,” I thought to myself, “What a fun day for them.

Only moments passed before the restaurant door opened again.

Then, the farmer walked in.

The son of the great-grandmother.

The husband of the grandmother.

The granddad of the five-year-old blonde.

I couldn’t help but smile to myself:

This multi-generational lunch made possible by none other than the falling rain.

While farmers may be getting grumpy (that phrase, by the way, is one way a farmer described himself this week, those are not the writer’s words!) because of all the May rains, these rains have certainly opened an opportunity for other important events to take place. They’ve allowed for farmers to step out of the cab, shop or field and reconnect with those so important to them. Planting Widows become married once again, if only for a few days while the rain comes down.

Rain makes time for life’s good stuff,
like enjoying lunch with your
88-year-old mother
and five-year-old granddaughter.

Rain makes corn. (OK, that was the last Luke Bryan reference, we promise).

Rain makes farmers catch up on bookwork.

Rain makes farmers spend money.

Rain makes farmers reconnect.

Rain, as it turns out, may not be so bad,
after all.

(We’re certain you’ll agree in July.)