Moise has invited me to come to watch him and his horses till his fields, every inch by him and them. Tilling is the chore he loves the most and has loved since he was five years old.
It is a gift to watch him, his connection to nature and the soul of his farm is visible. He talks to horses softly, never loudly, never angrily. There is no whip or strap to swat them with.
Just his calm and quiet voice. You can see Tina on the far left, watching, and his son upon the hillside collecting brush for later burning.
It seems an enormous task to me for one man, even with three big and powerful draft horses. I’m driving him to the Glens Falls Bus Station again Saturday afternoon, it will be fun to hear more of his plans and dreams for the farm.
I see that his farm is a church in its own way, the family its parishioners and worshippers. I only stayed for a few minutes, I just find the sight of this dance with the soil to be both beautiful and affirming.
I am reading The Grapes of Wrath for the third time, but the first in many years. One of the most moving chapters told about the connection the farmer had to the land when being plowed by horses. Earth was literally touched by the farmer, and that made the love of the land personal. And it didn’t stop there. The connection continued into the barn, where the warmth and smell of the horses was a continuation of the bond. That was contrasted with the coldness of the machinery that took over the farms during the Dust Bowl. The men sat on their tractors, put them away, and didn’t give the soil another thought, much less thinking about the tractor once he dismounted from it . When I read that passage in the book I thought about what a wonderful connection to the land the Amish must have. The photo above says it all.