The Amish have a reputation for working their horses hard, and from what I see, that is true. But there is more to their relationship with horses than that.
This morning, Moise invited me to come and see him and his sons dig out a thick, knotted, deeply rotted cluster of the brush to make room for two truckloads of concrete coming money to guild two barn foundations – his and his brothers-in-law.
I was with Moise in Glens Falls when he negotiated for that concrete; the salesman went pale before finally giving him the discount he wanted.
This morning, Moise had attached two heavy levelers to the big golden draft horses. Moise would back the horses up with soft, almost inaudible German commands to go “back,” and then in Pennsylvania Dutch, to go forward.
As with all things Amish, he spoke quietly and softly. Even when the horses backed up too swiftly, he never raised his voice or spoke in more than a whisper. I marveled at how these horses responded to those whispers instantly.
Back and forth, back and forth, they loosened the roots and bushes and pulled them forward. The only sound was Moise’s gentle commands in German and the occasional snort of the horses.
The boys moved in and stacked the heavy limbs and roots in a mound, which they will either burn or use as kindling in the winter.
Moise is clearing out a space to put all of those concrete bags before work can get started on the barns.
His two sons were working with him, they tied the gnarled roots and brush to the back of the levelers, and he told the horses in German to move forward, which they did, pulling the roots out.
Within a few minutes, there was a flat, invisible plain to hold the concrete. I couldn’t see it if I walked ten feet in either direction.
The work is silent, economical, efficient. Moise does an amazing amount of work in a short time.
The Amish trim their own horse’s hooves, calling in a farrier only if there is trouble or an infection seems likely. I could watch Moise work with these horses all day, and I might today.
He’s invited me to come by and watch him finish the work on the temporary house he and his family and friends built for his daughter Katie Ann, who is moving in today. I feel like a voyeur at times, but I feel like I’m witnessing and recording something important.
And they seem to want me there.
Later this afternoon, I’ll drive him into Albany to ride a train to Cleveland, Ohio. I’ll be picking him up Monday afternoon.
The concrete work is creative and inventive. Although the farm is neat and well organized, he didn’t like the idea of giant sacks of concrete sitting out around the crops, so using the horse as a tractor, he’s carving out an invisible hole beneath the trees.
The lumber is arriving for the barn. There is some more leveling to do, and the barn should start going up in a couple of weeks.
I appreciate Moise letting me go into his farm whenever I can and see the coming together of this new life, seeing how hard and skillfully this family is building their new home.
