Harvest is now complete on the farm. While I loved the full fields of corn and the glorious green hue of summer, I equally enjoy the days after harvest. I can now walk the length of our land and explore areas unreachable during the growing season. As I make my way among the freshly cut corn stalks, there is a sense of energy in the air. The empty corn husks dance in the wind. The birds flutter from hidden places – all of nature’s creatures are alert, taking this time to prepare for the barren winter months ahead.
The well-worn paths of deer, raccoon, and coyote are now visible. The black birds hide noisily among the swaths of Pampas Grass, then swoop away – a powerful force as they fly in unison. Stand close enough, right at the edge, and it is thrilling – engulfed for a moment in the pure energy of flight.
There is also a deep sense of quiet though (I have written of it before here), an interesting duality as the earth seems to sigh of relief with the end of the growing season. It’s a time of transition, and there is a magic in that – one of connecting with nature and its dependable cycles.
The transition to winter has begun. The days are getting shorter and the air cooler. The leaves are almost completely off the trees, exposing bare limbs reaching up to heaven, offering a silent prayer of thanks as they too prepare for this time of rest. I savor each walk, each moment in the sunlight. I accept these gifts from Mother Nature as each fall day becomes more fleeting.
This move to Iowa, exactly four years ago, has blessed me with the gift of being more closely connected to nature. It was something I had craved, but had never truly experienced, not like this. Walking the land, noticing the miracles of each season. My heart swells with gratitude for these wide-open fields, a sense of peace in another harvest complete. The cycle continues, the wonder of it all.