#just things i think about driving through farmland all day evey day

[whimsicallywiddershins]

There is something special about living in an agricultural-centered place. The passage of time is noted through plants and animals and the people whose lives revolve around them.

In January, the dairies plant the alfalfa. Wide open fields of little green seedlings.

February is the loveliest time of year: when the almonds blossom. The entire valley is covered in a blanket of blossoms of white touched with red. They cluster on every branch. Bee boxes are put out on every row.

The end of March is marked by the tiny green almond leaves replacing the blossoms, and every car stirs up a storm of white.

With spring, comes the baby animals. Calves, foals, lamb, piglets, kids. The fields are green and ducklings swim in the canals.

The alfalfa is harvested in May. God help you if you are allergic to hay. Combines stir up dust filled with bits of hay, every breeze is filled with it. Trucks carrying bales of alfalfa fill the roads, trailing bits of green and brown as they go.

Corn is planted in the empty alfalfa fields. The dairies begin to store the feed. Walnuts gain their leaves. The almonds begin to grow.

The first crop of summer: strawberries, followed closely by cherries. Peaches, nectarines, apricots, last is the watermelon, the cantaloupe. Fruit stands on every corner. The corn grows ever higher.

Fall is the time of harvest. It starts with the almonds. Tractors fill the streets, shakers, sweepers, harvesters, forcing cars to swerve around them. Dust clouds fill the air, the plumes can be seen for miles. As September creeps into October, open trucks filled with almonds are everywhere you look. Then tomatoes, covering the roads when spilled. Potatoes, squash, onions, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, apples, pears. Walnuts. Corn. Then the vineyards begin to harvest. It is the busiest time of year.

It is also time for calves again.

October turns to November, and things begin to slow. The leaves fall. The almonds and walnuts are bare. With winter comes the rain, comes the oranges, comes the chard, the kale, the carrots. Pomegranate trees are in every yard, alongside the roads, drooping branches with ruby red fruit.

November turns to December, turns to January and the alfalfa is planted.

#agriculture #farming #california central valley #poetry #i guess #but not really #just things i think about driving through farmland all day evey day