I grew up in Iowa surrounded by fields of corn and soy beans. Most of my relatives were either farmers or lived in a small farm town. I might have been referred to as a city slicker by those relatives but I still worked every summer in the fields and surrounded by animals.
It was 32 years ago when I left Iowa and headed to the East coast. Since then, I have raised a family in a large metropolitan area, right in the middle of planned developments with all the amenities I would only dream of as a young kid in Iowa.
This fall I am back working on a farm. Full of animals, surrounded by sounds and smells of the farms I knew so well.
Each morning starts by welcoming the goats, chickens and cats to a new day. Feeding, cleaning and maintaining the barn is usually part of the weekend chores but every night as the sun sets,
I am back to work making sure the animals are safe in their pens with food and water.
There is something to be said about working with your hands. For 32 years, I have done my share of work around the house but there is nothing like putting up a fence or building a chicken coup that not only is convenient for us but is critter proof, protecting our investment.
The peaceful evenings after all the work is done, the silence in the air and the satisfaction of putting in more than a days worth of work on the farm, I don't think I could go back to any other life.