Our Day at the Farm

Sunrise

When the alarm clock rings at 5:45am it means the best part of the day is about to begin. I eagerly jump out of bed, get my walking shoes on, and try to beat the first sunrays of the day to the prairie trailhead.

Just two blocks out of town, a paved 5 mile trail leads down through cooleys and back up again to the green prairieland for a spectacular view.

Glacier National Park is to the left, Canada and the Sweet Grass Hills are to the right, and straight ahead is the sign of a new era, a wind farm with 250 turbines turning lazily in the wind. Everything is surrounded by thousands of acres of nowhere, the open prairie- somewhere in the middle of Toole County, Montana.

The view fills me up to the very core.

The windmills remind me each morning that progress unfolds in the most unexpected places. I wonder where my progress today will be...

Memorial Day Remembered

Ray Zell, blowing the Taps Bugle Call

While I have memories of visiting graves on Memorial Day, I don't believe I have ever been to a Memorial Day Service, until today.

Over the weekend I met a remarkable 93 year old World War II Veteran, Ray Zell, who lives in Shelby. Whenever there are military funerals, or military events sponsored by the Veterans of Foreign Wars, Ray blows the Taps bugle call. He has played for over 50 funerals over the past 16 years.

Ray invited me to our local Memorial Day Service held at 11a.m. at the Shelby Cemetery to watch him play Taps.

As I drove into the cemetery with the kids I was somewhat amazed by the number of cars, families, and veterans dressed in full uniform who came to participate.

Ray looked great, proudly holding his polished trumpet and standing at attention while the speaker talked of patriotism, his associations with Civil War Veterans when he was a young boy, and his own sacrifices for his country.

Ray blew a great Taps.

Ray reminds me there is always something to give.

Simple surprises make the day!

Harry and Thomas share a moment together at the Benjamin farm.

My surprise of the day was an unexpected visit from my dear farmer friend, Harry Benjamin. Harry is in his eighties and his father homesteaded in our area in 1909, a hundred years ago. Harry and his wife Jeane are celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary on June 6 and stopped by to invite us out to the farm to provide music for their open house.

I have never met anyone like Harry and Jeane. Harry is an artist and inventor whose mind never stops. He is gifted in working with anything metal and can fix, strengthen or build anything using his metal works. His farm and shop which is 20 miles out of town, right in the middle of the prairie, would astound anyone.

Jeane is a master gardner who loves gardening in her gigantic green house which Harry built for her. She is always experimenting with new varieties of every plant, vegetable and fruit possible. The first strawberry we tasted from her greenhouse tasted like candy, I have never tasted anything so sweet.

The kids and grandkids now run the farm which grows organic wheat. They have created a niche in the new organic market which continues to make thier farm successfull.

Harry and Jeane remind me that the next generations are built on the efforts, integrity, and morality of the previous generations. They also remind me that there is always 'another planting season' ahead, and that there is no such thing as a wasted season.