Green Pastures

The scene was bucolic and pastoral, one well-kept farm after another, as our motorcoach whirred down the highway on the way home from a museum tour.  My face to the window, I saw bright red wood barns growing out of stone foundations, green fields and Holstein cows.  It all looked so slow and easy, so peaceful and pleasant.  For a few moments, I wished I was a farmer.  And then I remembered the lecture I'd heard a few evenings before by a young and hearty organic farmer who talked about the delicate balancing act between being a scientist, a meteorologist, a nutritionist, a business owner and a land steward.  I recalled her telling of the long hours, the back-breaking work, the worries over finances and the concerns about fickle weather.  How much I respect those whose labors provide the rest of us with healthy, wholesome food, free of pesticides and poisons, to nourish our bodies.  To them, I am thankful.