The Insight of Childhood

rowing up on a mid-west farm in the "Heartland" of Wisconsin continues to provide me with fond memories, strong morals, and simple beliefs. It was living a life with an obtainable means, working and playing as a family unit, and a casual demeanor that would entice even the average person, some of these things so many people have long forgotten.

To wake up each morning to the sunrise, to lie in bed and listen to all the activity and the hustle and bustle, knowing that today, like any other day, will become a challenge that is unexplainable. Looking out the window of my second story room, I see the dew glistening as far as I could see. The sunlight reflects only a glimpse of its natural beauty. Seeing the dogs herding the bellering cows, the horses thundering hooves as they gallop in the field is a tremendous graphic noise. Chickens are amidst the wild activity, pecking the ground for the remains of their last meal. The sharp squeal of the pigs as I approach them, anxiously waiting for the slop that will consume them. Sweet and pungent odors rise from the buckets we carry, their shrieking turns to grunts of sheer delight.

Prancing along the fence line, the excited geldings race beside us, almost as if playing tag, only to beat us to the grain bin. Gentle in nature, I am reminded by the nudge of a nose and the kiss of their lips on my hands, that we are loved and needed, they are thankful.

Walking up the hill towards the barn, the aroma of silage and manure mixed with exhaust rising from the grumbling tractor and the mist left from the morning dew is a reminder of the days work ahead. A thick layer of dust rises from the limestone, as the heifers hooves scuff their way to the stalls. The sterility of solutions and the pumping of equipment begins. Stanchions are locked, and grain slides from shoots. Hay bails drop from overhead, and the sweet clover wafts through the air. Surrounding myself with the hum of the bulk tank and the gentle moo of the cows, a