The Season of the Combine....

It must come from being raised on a farm....but dang, I love the season of the combines!!!

From the time I was little and stomping down a "house" in the middle of the wheat field to play I've always been fascinated with the seasons of the fields from turning the chocolate brown soil, to watching the sprouts emerge, to witnessing the harvesting.

I would wait, watch and listen with great anticipation of the big machines gobbling down the crops.  When I was little and too small to see over the tops of the corn stalks, I would stand just off the edge of the row, listening to the combine make its way closer and closer...seeing the dust rise in the sky...and feel the earth tremble beneath me.  And then, like a large monster, the tips of the tines would emerge followed by the monster itself!  I'd squeal with delight, run and patiently wait its return.

One of the most magical images was a few years back.  We had planted wheat and the thrashers were working late trying to get the crop in before the rain.  It was well beyond dark.  The headlights of the thrasher danced on the dust particles leaving a magical glow in its wake....all under the brilliance of a full moon over its shoulder.

To this day I am so disappointed if they harvest the crops when I am not home.

This year I had the rare treat of being home on a beautiful sunny day as the combine worked slowly to gather the corn.  Hurricane Sandy had reduced the once 7-8 foot high stalks to a mere 4-5 feet, but I was still in awe, alight with the energy of a five year old.

I decided to try to capture the magic in photos....the farmers seemed amused by my childlike enthusiasm.

Some sections of the fields are long and rolling.  I had a wait for it to crest the final hill and head down towards me.

As I stood in wait, mid-hill, I would hear rustling in the corn.  It struck me as odd.  Often the wind will blow and the corn "speaks" to me....but this was different.  It was louder than the normal whisper, pronounced.  Yet, as I scanned over the tops of the stalks, I was indeed alone in my endeavor.

With such a plentiful crop, the combine would need to empty mid-pass.  He couldn't make it from one end to the other without spewing its golden fire like a dragon into the awaiting semi's.

Like an impatient child. I wiggled with anticipation.  I kept running up to the crest of the hill to see how far it had gotten.  I wanted to shoot from below the crest.  Twice, three times...there was that noise coming from the corn, more loud and punctuated than a passing breeze....still I was alone.

Would he ever get there?  The sun was setting....I was impatient.....shadows were getting long and the field was losing its golden hue....

And then, there he was....rising over the crest consuming all in its path!!!









I wanted so desperately to watch yet my attention was drawn behind me!!!  At the vibration of the combine cresting the hill, coming closer, he exploded from his sanctuary in the corn and bounded off into the sunset.

He was truly magnificent....and unfortunately bounding off right into the sun, now low in the sky...

I was absolutely giddy!  I continued to record the farmers toils.

And was gifted once again by a magical, beautiful, dust-filled sunset.....

The world truly is a wonder to be experienced....