December is the countdown month for the year's parade of time, making up yet another unique year. The month's name stems from the Latin word for "tenth" and was part of the old Roman calendar, where it also was their year's end. For us here in Midwest agriculture, it's a time of renewal. The land may be fallow, but Mother Nature is still busy at work. A month of transition, we cycle between mild sunny days to ice and snow met with bitter north winds as icicles begin to adorn the roof's edge. It is, without a doubt, a mystical month that can pique the imagination of both young and old alike. It's a time to celebrate all things family and embrace not only the bounties of the year's harvest but also the treasures of life.
With that, I write my 12th and final edition of the Farm Life Journal. What a journey it has been chronicling my life around the farm and the various sources of our food. My goal was to help readers better understand the passion and commitment America's farmers have for their life's work, and our innate desire to leave the land better than we found it. I hope you've found the legacy of agriculture enriches the lives of all who dine at its table and leads the way to a stronger world.
Butterflies, Honey Bees and Bobwhite Quail
One memory that stands out is Grandpa's wooden windmill, built in the early years of the last century by his father. In its working life, the windmill provided water for the livestock. Today, it stands as a reminder of my family's legacy and a testament to the endurance of agriculture's growth in technology.