HARVEST IS OVER -- AND I MISSED IT!

I made a day trip to the farm last Friday (August 10^th) to water and wash clothes.  Mike had gone with friends on a motorcycle trip into the Oregon wilderness, so it was a perfect opportunity for a friend to ride along with me. We had a delightful day. The clothes dried quickly in the heat and we were on our way back to town early in the afternoon.

 

When we were here on Friday, harvest was just beginning. The operation was in the canola fields at the corner of Dobson and Curfman Roads, about a mile from the farmhouse. I didn’t think much about it because our property was all in wheat, so it came as a complete surprise to me when we drove in yesterday and all of our wheat had been harvested. Even the neighbors fields have been harvested. And the harvesters are gone – not so much as the sound of a machine in the distance. It must have been a fast-paced three days, and we missed it.

 

I enjoy being here when they harvest. It brings the remembrance of what harvest was years ago. A feeling of excitement would pervade the agricultural community at harvest, the fulfillment of the year’s work. Harvest is noise and activity in an otherwise quiet environment. Harvest meant income for the farmer and jobs for laborers. And that naturally boosted the economy of our little towns. It was tiring work for everyone involved. If you were the farmer’s wife, it was part of your job description to prepare food for the farm hands, including bread, pies, cakes, cookies baked in hot weather over a wood stove (if you go back far enough). August is harvest time here, and I suppose that regionally it was three weeks to a month in duration.

 

These days, it’s all over in about a day. The work crew is minimal – machine operators and truck drivers. Our only interaction with them is a wave as they pass the house. They ask nothing of us except that we keep Nellie out of the way. (Nellie fears the lawn mower but not the huge combines.) Operating their machines from air-conditioned cabs, they bring their own lunch and unless a machine breaks down, they hardly stop. No, stopping to rest is no longer a necessity, and providing a meal to the workers is no longer part of the equation.

 

Even so, I’m disappointed that I missed it, but Mike says to look on the bright side: the windows were closed (I guarantee that plenty of dust will settle anyway) and we had no laundry on the line. And now we can walk the fields again.

 

After being closed over the weekend, the house was hot and stuffy yesterday, but with the windows open overnight, it’s pleasant right now. I'm getting ready to bake zucchini bread while it’s still cool. It’s supposed to be cooler today – 86 instead of 94 – with the heat building into the 90s again over the weekend (over 104 in the valley). It’s hazy with smoke from regional fires. KW

[The last three photos were taken at eventide. Farmland provides an ever-changing dynamic of light and shadow.]