You Can't Go Back to the Farm Again

Here it is. Ah, the wonders of technology! If you are so inclined, you can use Google Earth or MapQuest or Microsoft TerraServer or what-have-you, to take a look yourself. It is at -90.98202 41.28180 That's Longitude, Latitude for those sitting there, scratching their heads.

This is where I grew up; where I lived until I was 16 years old. The picture here is from terraserver.micrsoft.com. The original farm was roughly rectangular, following the edge of the image. The dark spot to the center right is the pond my dad built. The field to the north (top) was typically planted in corn, oats or hay. The south (bottom) was typically planted in hay or corn.

Once my dad planted soybeans in part of the north field. Honestly, I don't remember what the yield was, or what happened, but I only remember him doing it once.

He typically used Open Pollinated seed corn, like http://www.greenfieldfarms.org/ Hay, if I remember correctly, was typically seeded as ½ tall clover, ¼ alfalfa and ¼ grass. I have no idea if this was optimal, but that is what we planted.

We stored the oats in a grainery I helped build. We fed most of it to our hogs and cattle, but left enough to use as seed for the following year. I think we only bought oat seed once.

I see the owners have cleared a good amount of trees from the southern part of the farm. That's too bad. I remember walking there in the woods, looking at the little stream, contemplating life. It was peaceful.

They have also removed the old barn. That is probably a good thing. It was nearly 60 years old when I lived there, and not in very good shape. That not withstanding, it held some special memories of doing chores at 4:00 AM in the middle of winter, or the time I helped a sow deliver a litter of pigs, or even the first and only time I have been in a hayloft with a girl.

Microsoft LiveEarth has a more recent satellite image and, well, it makes me a little sad. If I am looking at it correctly, they have done something with the pond. Maybe they emptied it or filled part of it in. That was a place of peace. There is nothing quite like floating on a pond all alone in a boat with no one around. The scents and sounds so subtle yet sublime.

Perhaps some day again I will know the simple joy of harvesting a field of oats or building a grainery or walking in the woods or floating all alone in a boat in a small pond.

Or perhaps, even, the simple pleasure of a kiss in a hayloft.

Perhaps...