It is not early in the morning, but the light is new.
We are living through the dark days of December.
The corn hulls, which we call bees wings although they have never been attached to a bee, were blowing in the raw South wind.
This is a warm Winter morning, temperatures in the mid twenties should feel balmy at this time of day, but the wind is brisk and cold.
Winter allows each sound to be distinct in the morning air.
Although there is wind, there are no rustling leaves or waving grass to dull the noise.
The heavy clouds and high humidity have frosted the surfaces in the yard.
I am sad to hear the forecast of melting snow.
We really don't have any to spare, in my opinion.
But the nice weather makes it easy to get on the road to haul out the crop.
The tiny blades of grass peeking through the snow cover are frosted.
The corn will be hauled to a nearby elevator.
I don't know where the crop will go when the elevator sells it.
But when you look at an ingredient list that includes corn, or eat corn flakes, corn syrup, corn chips, think of us.
Food made in the USA starts here.
On an American farm, like GriggsDakota.