By Jade Meinzer
My Side of the Barbed Wire
After what seemed like the never-ending summer here in the Nebraska panhandle, we have woken up the past few mornings to crisp air, a dense fog, and even a couple sprinkles of rain. Fall has arrived in this part of the world, and we couldn’t be happier about it. Fall is the time of year that not only marks the changing of the season, but for those of us in production agriculture, it’s a time to enjoy the fruits of our labor. Weaning time for spring calves, combines chugging through the corn fields picking kernels from the ears and lights shining brightly on a high school football field on Friday night. Yes, fall is a special time of year for sure, and along with the changing of the leaves, the sounds of the country change right along with it.
It was just before sunup when I reached the saddle shack, the cool air on my face made me aware of the hump that would be in my pony’s back. After a few laps around the pen my horse allowed himself to be caught, these cool mornings can cause a fellow’s temper to get a little hot.
I saddled my mount by the dawns early light, it’s funny how the sun coming up chases away the stars and the blackness of the night. Down the river I can here a lone bull elk let out a bugle, it’s hard to beat a life like this that is so simple and frugal.
The fog of the morning makes the saddle damp and wet, that’s an inconvenience because there are cattle out there in the mist to get. Across the hills and through the valleys we ride happily along, my youngest daughter is like a little jukebox and sings us endless songs.
We’ll gather this pasture and probably the next one too, with any luck with this fog we won’t miss more than just a few. With the herd thrown together and the cattle headed for home lined out nose to tail, I’ve got a minute to stop and give thanks to the man above whose blessings never fail.
Across the river we can see the harvest trucks rolling down the highway, dust flies off the combines as farmers blow dirt and chaff away. Later they’ll be making laps in the fields picking those ears of gold, it’s a task every farmer loves and one that never seems to get old.
By this time tomorrow the country will be full of sound, fresh weaned calves will be bawling for their mothers and the tractor drilling wheat down the road will rumble as seed goes into the ground. There is something special about this time of the year. You can tell which neighbor is doing what just by the sounds that you hear.
Pretty soon the season will change once more and the air will turn cold. The grass in the pastures will turn brown and old. Frost will paint pictures on the front door’s glass, everything will slow down and the snow that falls will give the country a touch of clean white class.
Fall is one of those seasons that has beauty around every corner. Leaves turn to brilliant shades of red, yellow and brown. The prairie grasses will turn to a deep shade of purple and tan. Each morning you can walk outside and hear neighbors weaning their calves, elk bugling their herd together, coyotes howling at the fading night sky, or the afternoon sounds of shoulder pads popping in the lights. Take time to give thanks for the blessings of fall. Wishing all of my fellow farmers and ranchers a bountiful and safe harvest with good yields and heavy calves. That’s all for this time, keep tabs on your side of the barbed wire and God Bless.