2.2.10

yeomen farmers and sharecroppers

"Farming is everybody's bread and butter" (bumper sticker on my grandpa's truck)

I grew up on farms like this one:

(yes, my grandfather's truck lacks a drivers' side door)

And this one:
(that's my backyard)

It's weird to me that so many people in this country have never even been to a farm. Most Americans have lost all connection to the soil, and whether you live in LA or NOLA, it is the soil which keeps you and I alive. Farmers feed you at every meal, every day. 

Farms are beautiful, wonderful places. Places where I learned about how plants, animals, and people grow. Places where I learned about seasons: nature's seasons, and the seasons of life.

My grandfather is old now, but he still tends his farm, the same farm my mother and aunts grew up on.
When I think of "home" I think of a farm somewhere in the green, rolling hills of Tennessee. A place where you can reach out and touch "life"; a place where I feel a part of time, feel connected to my family, and remember who I am, and where I came from. 

To that land every drop of my blood, every fiber of my being, every pulsation of my heart, is consecrated forever. I was born of her womb; I was nurtured at her breast; and when my last hour shall come, I pray GOD that I may be pillowed upon her bosom and rocked to sleep within her tender and encircling arms. Edward Ward Carmack (1858-1908), United States Representative, Tennessee

1 comment:

Lydia said...

you're on a roll today!!

nice to have you back :)