Stepping outside on a cool fall morning, you draw in a breath of soft farm air. Horses and cattle are stirring, waiting for someone to open the pasture gate or toss them a flake of hay. By this part of November, most birds have headed south for warmer nesting grounds. Those left behind are clamoring together in empty cornfields, pecking at kernels of corn missed by combines as they roared through the area. A gentle breeze and those remaining flocks take wing.
The rhythms of life are ever present on an Amish farm. Autumn is the final stage of gathering in summer's produce before winter blows snowdrifts against barn doors and feed bunks. Grandpa still lives in a little house next door, even though Grandma passed away a few months ago. He rides along in the family buggy when everyone goes to a fall wedding. He smiles as the newly married couple stand for their vows, it only seems a few days ago he and Grandma had made that promise. Next spring life will blossom anew. Sheep will lay down in soft grasses next to baby lambs. Plowed fields will mellow and dirt clods break up as horses pull disc and harrow over the face of the earth. Tiny shoots of green will peek out to feel warm rays of sun after a refreshing drink of rain. Life goes on.