Out standing in their field, the old joke goes.

Farmers are their own breed to be sure.

Growing boys, and girls, strong and true.

Raising food, caring for the land – in their blood.

 

Outstanding in their fields, doing what they love.

Farmers are true to one thing, and one thing only.

Growing it better, one eye to the sky and one to ground.

Raising hopes, raising dreamers – in their hearts.

 

Out standing in their fields, eyes to those they love.

Farm wives washed in blood, sweat and tears.

Growing it at home, in the field and in their souls.

Raising it generation after generation – in their DNA.

 

Outstanding and insane, outstanding and obscure.

Farmers are a special breed, and so it should be.

Growing it started in God’s own first garden after all!

Raising hands deep in soil, blooded on the land. Forever.

 

Six generations on this Canadian soil, with the seventh standing in the field with his Daddy.  More generations past across the seas.  It is in our blood, our DNA says “Farmer! Rancher!” and of that we are proud.  Looking at this harvest picture I think that maybe that is the way it is meant to be…for our family anyway.  Every generation needs at least one, and this is ours.

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23 Comments

  1. brian miller said,

    November 14, 2012 at 2:50 am

    farmers are a special breed but most farmers i know and have met understand more about life than many others i know…of using their hands, of family and understanding nature and the land….smiles….nice pic as well….

    • shanyns said,

      November 14, 2012 at 2:55 am

      Thanks Brian! 🙂 We have to understand the balance and our part in it…those that don’t do not last long at all. I love that photo, wish we were still enjoying those warm fall days instead of this winter. Great that you stopped by.

  2. Laurie Kolp said,

    November 14, 2012 at 3:01 am

    Hats off to all farmers… their dedication and love of the land is admirable. Kudos to your family!

  3. ManicDdaily said,

    November 14, 2012 at 4:24 am

    So absolutely terrific. Thanks! Wish i were out there! k.

  4. ManicDdaily said,

    November 14, 2012 at 4:24 am

    For a visit! I’m hoping to move to a more rural place though (in complete truth). k.

  5. claudia said,

    November 14, 2012 at 5:10 am

    made me smile…my uncle was a farmer and i so know what you mean…one eye to the sky and one to ground….this sounds like a good recipe to live life generally

    • shanyns said,

      November 14, 2012 at 7:49 pm

      Claudia, I agree, it seems like a good recipe overall, doesn’t it? Thanks for coming by!

  6. November 14, 2012 at 5:22 am

    Farmers are a special breed. I grew up in the country surrounded by farms. I am so thankful for each person who farms. They are a blessing that so many fail to appreciate.

  7. Marian said,

    November 14, 2012 at 2:30 pm

    nice, shanyn! 🙂

  8. November 14, 2012 at 4:26 pm

    I like the way that ‘out standing’ was given two meanings. You write beautifully about farming, your love for the land and people is self-evident.

    • shanyns said,

      November 14, 2012 at 7:51 pm

      Thanks Kerry! 🙂 I’m glad you liked both uses of out standing.

  9. Sherry Marr said,

    November 14, 2012 at 6:51 pm

    What a BEAUTIFUL photo. I have always thought I would have loved that life. My sister, too. Close to the land, and living off the land, what could be more natural and satisfying? Beautiful, Shanyn!

    • shanyns said,

      November 14, 2012 at 7:51 pm

      Sherry – you would have loved it, and hated it, and sometimes in the same breath! But that is the joy of it. Ever changing and yet constant. So glad you liked the photo of my best guys.

  10. November 15, 2012 at 2:12 am

    Excellent, Shanyn!! This has such a connected to the land tone…rich in every way!! I love this:

    “one eye to the sky and one to ground.”

    So happy to see your words! 🙂

  11. November 15, 2012 at 5:39 am

    Your best guys are wonderful, and your poem does them and farmers great justice. This is simply lovely. I lived in Canada for five years, but sadly I only saw the parks and the cities, the canals and River Rideau.

    Your poem is beautifully structured, and should be printed and placed on your mantel.


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