once a year

wheat field

it’s the time of year when fields turn golden.  and wow, i didn’t know my kids had such wheat-colored hair; i did know they had wheat-textured hair…

straw colored hair

straw colored hair

i consider myself a city-girl at her core, but this year when i stepped in the wheat field next to nana and papa’s place, i knew the calm that the country brings.  i had one foot on tended lawn and the other on ground so dry it cracked with tall poky stalks.   i imagined my husband and his brothers as little boys running the length of the lawn on the edge of the wheat field.  i felt the safety in the quiet.

swimming through the wheat

the kids went to the field like fish to water or bears to woods.

swimming through the wheat

the seemingly swam their way out for no other purpose than to “go out there.”  as soon as they would reach down to pick up a treasure, they disappeared…and of course my mind goes right to families who have lost children.  who saw them one minute and then never again.  who knew they couldn’t be far, but didn’t know where to start looking.

i can’t help it.

my own eliza was far out with the others, then got scared.

swimming through the wheat

back she came nearly holding her breath not to drown in the wheat that was taller than she.

swimming through the wheat

swimming through the wheat

swimming through the wheat

swimming through the wheat

then she waits for the others and complains that she isn’t out there.

isn’t that life.

wheat field

oh, good times on the farm to make me think beyond the moment.

lone wheat head

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12 thoughts on “once a year

  1. what a beautiful entry. the photos are simply stunning. poetry with pictures. the most relaxing, heart-warming blog i have seen in ages!

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  2. there is a very big and special place in my heart for the time of wheat harvest.
    Beyond the glory of the beauty of the wheat at is most golden times and the harvest red and orange sunsets (yes, this happens often in Kansas) but the busyness and the dependability of each other in the family to make this fruitful time of year happen.
    Ahhhh…. Kansas.

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  3. All I could think about while standing out in the wheat field a while back was snakes. I was so scared I would step on a snake or hear/see one.

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  4. Oh, my back yard is that same color. Unfortunately, it’s not a wheat field… it’s grass… and since it’s been over 100 degrees here for the past few days it’s dead. Doh.

    What beautiful pictures of your kiddos in the wheat fields. Nice.

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  5. Oh what precious pictures! How I loved harvest time as a little girl when we got to ride in the fields with my Uncle Edgar and all my cousins and brothers and sisters at Oma’s farm. I loved the smells -especially inside the old truck with the fan sitting on the dash. I loved the freedom. I loved the excitement of standing on the grain in the back of the truck -dangerous, but fun!!!! I marveled at how people knew what to do at the elevator.I loved the old thermos with coffee in the truck. I loved hearing all the stories of harvesting when my Mom was a little girl -all the cooking, all the workers-everyone was needed.
    Oh, my city girl -I’m so glad you’re also discovering the wonder of space, the freedom of wandering, the beauty of wheat -as I did at my Oma’s farm.

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