The Fruited Plain

I hope you have time to take a ride with me today.  We're not going anywhere in particular.  Let's just take a ride in the country.  We'll go off the beaten path and see rural America.  We'll see the landscape.  There's no traffic jams or road rage where we're going.  We'll wave at farmers on tractors and little old ladies walking to the mailbox.  We'll see people sitting in rocking chairs on their front porches having coffee before it gets too hot outside.

We'll see spacious skies.  Now, there are no purple mountain majesties here in South Louisiana - far from it.  The land is flat.  But there are amber waves of grain.  Here is a field of wheat waving in the gentle breeze.  It's ready for harvesting.

Would you look over there?  Some grateful soul painted a mural on the side of their barn that says, "God Bless our Farmers."  How about that?  It shows a combine harvesting rice and a farmer walking on the levee with his shovel resting on his shoulder.  Despite high prices, farmers are out doing what they need to do to keep America (and the rest of the world) fed.  God bless our farmers, indeed.

On the same building, there's an American flag painted on the side.  Can you see it?  The shrubs have almost taken over it.  In a metaphorical sense, some parts of the American dream, as well as the innocence and greatness of our country have almost been overtaken, but if you look closely, the pride and work ethic is still there.  I'm praying her greatness will be restored and the overgrowth of apathy and division will be pruned back.

Right down the road we see crop dusters busy taking off from landing strips, broadcasting fertilizer on the rice fields.  The drone of their engines wake you up in the morning as they fly over your house and continue all day.

Here's another barn in which some skilled painter painted a bold red rooster standing proud against the golden rays of morning sun.  It's time to get up and get to work, the rooster tells his rural neighbors.

Thousands of acres of crawfish ponds surround us and we watch as crawfishermen in their boats cross the flooded rice fields, emptying their traps.  Onion sacks full of crawfish will be caught and delivered to local restaurants and wholesalers who distribute crawfish nationwide.

Cattle lazily graze on tender grass.  They'll eat until it gets hot and then will meander over to a shade tree where they'll sit in the shade and swish flies with their tails and chew their cud.  In the evening, however, they'll head back out.  There's grass to be eaten.  That grass is turned into milk to feed their calves.

Rice fields are just receiving their first shot of nitrogen, boosting their growth and turning their foliage so green it's almost blue.

You can notice by the road noise, we've turned off the paved road.  We're on a gravel road heading back home.  The dust billows up behind us.  We pull up to the house just in time to see old Rosie eating grass as the sun tucks itself below the horizon.

Perspective is everything.  Sometimes it is just refreshing to see that there is still good out there.  All you gotta do is make a turn on the road less traveled.  It's been a relaxing drive today.  I'm glad you accompanied me.