a grandfather teaches
his grandchild a lesson
by
the way he plows
a
field.
grandpa always
plows
in
a
straight
line.
he does not go around
rocks
but removes them.
grandpa's path
always remains
straight.
there is something beautiful
about a plowed field.
grandpa never taught me
how to plow a field...
but i was in on my share of
"picking stones"
if you ever wondered why you see
that pile of rocks near a field...
this is why...
you remove the obstacles.
i came home friday evening to see that
my dad...
my lesson giver...
had plowed the garden...
and i could not help
but stop
and smile.
.lessons. passed. through. the. generations.
.priceless.
welcome to coffee hour
welcome to this Sunday morning.
just BE.
robin.
12 comments:
this is a beautiful, touching, wise post
and the photos are magic!
Great post, even without the pictures.
You have inspired a post that will be on my food blog later this week about how my grandfather taught me to plow straight lines.
Here it is. It's scheduled to post at the end of the week. Thanks for the inspiration!
Growing up, the highlight of my summer vacation was getting to spend as much time on my grandparents farm in North Carolina. Sure most people wanted to head to DisneyWorld in nearby Orlando, but I loved being on that farm, playing in the fields and exploring the barns and pack houses. They grew tobacco, soy beans, corn, and then all of their own vegetables. What we ate for dinner, we usually had picked that morning. Can't get much fresher than that.
My grandfather taught me how to plow in a straight line, by first having me plow one or part of one on my own. I carefully tried to steer the tractor, keeping a close eye on the front wheels and struggling to keep them in a straight line. I thought I did a good job until I looked behind me and saw a squiggly swerving line.
Then my grandfather had me try again, but this time, he told me to focus not on where I was, but where I was going to be. He had me pick a tree on the opposite side of the field and told me to use THAT as my guide instead of looking all the time at the ground beneath me. I did it his way and sure enough, I left a straight line behind me.
When that vacation was over and I was back in Florida, I practiced this when mowing the lawn. I'd pick a spot before me in the distance and laid straight lines. Everytime I did it, it reminded me of that particular day with Grandpa.
Much later in life, I realized that Oneil wasn't just teaching me how to plow a straight line. He was giving me a life lesson about keeping an appropriate focus on life. He was teaching me it isn't where I am right this second that is important, rather, it is where I am going that matters. He was teaching me about moving towards a goal.
I'm 41 now. My grandfather has been gone for some 20+ years. The farm has been sold long ago. I haven't stepped foot on a farm in forever. Trevor (9 y/o) carries my grandfather's name (Oneil). I hope that I can teach him how to "plow straight lines" one day as well as my grandfather taught me.
Yeah, girl! this post is so nostalgic
for me. I came from the countryside and my family have a big farmstead. I learnt life from the hard way. Plowing and planting rice, corn,veges and name it, been there- done that!
THis is so true. Keep inspiring us. Love every photos too.
Cheers for the day!
Your right, nothing more beautiful than a plowed field..Farming is hard work, but so rewarding.
Beautiful words too..
I'm at a loss for words! Beautiful words from you today though.
I used to live in farm country. I sure miss the beautiful straight plowed rows. I can almost smell it now!
Have a great day!
WOW! Inspired! I mean it! :) Thank you for those words of WISDOM! We all have obstacles in our lives which need to be removed, if you go around them, they'll still be there the next time around!
The sight and smell of a ploughed field is like setting the soul free to be at one with new earth! Lovely post!
such artistry in your words and images
...
elk
Oh my,you have done it yet once again my dear...such though evoking words and photos.There is nothing like the aroma of the newly plowed earth.Sad thing is,the technique of no-till has taken up most of my family's actual plowing of the fields.Sure miss the old way of doing things.But I can still close my eyes,reflect and 'smell' that freshly plowed earth being prepared for crops.Thanks for all your wonderful posts and photos....sue black
You word it like no other Robin...the simple lessons learned in a complex life are the most cherished and true to form.
We all have those lil' piles of rocks somewhere, to remind us that the effort was worth it.
Hope your week goes as wonderful as the weekend, thanks for the cup of remem'brings!
s
this is so very cool that ya'll have memories of plowed fields...i especially love chris's story. thanks for sharing your thoughts.
just BE.
robin.
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