I admit to being somewhat in awe of Vince Vecchio and men like him, the big men in trucks and tractors who  can re-arrange the earth, move mountains, alter the landscape. Thanks to him and his son Chad, we are finally ready for winter. The wood is in the shed, the hay is in the barn, the manure pile has gone off to Pompanuck.

Vince came with a mountain of gravel, he put most of it in the Pole Barn, a soft bed for the animals to lie on during the cold winter, he re-graded our bumpy drive-way, expanded our parking area, put dirt around the foundations of the old barn, graded some of the soil so the water would run away from the buildings.

Vince is a master excavator, a Maestro of the field, watching him work his tractor is like watching a dancer at Julliard, the machines are extensions of him, he is graceful and efficient. Life here would not be possible if not for Vince and men like him.

In two hours, he re-arranged our landscape, fixed the ravages of summer. I am very grateful that he lives up the road, when there is trouble, he is the one you want to see come down the road. Vince also plows the snow here during blizzards.

He is Jersey guy, honest and easy to talk to. I do not know how things work, I cannot re-arrange my office, let alone the earth, but watching Vince zoom around the farm on his tractor, I knew I was watching a maestro, conducting his own little orchestra, the art of the field.