It has often been said that a picture is worth a thousand words but more often than not those words cannot be accurately portrayed within the framework of the picture. That is to say, the picture frames the dialogue, and not the reciprocal.
Allow me to set the stage.
It is early autumn and the leaves have turned. The aroma of Concord grapes sweep through the countryside on the whim of the wind and for a few short weeks it is possible to smell the color purple. The vibrant palette of nature is on display as a fleeting escape of foliage jettisons the mighty sentinels of our Southwest Michigan forests. Our season gives way to the magnificent desolation that will be another Midwest winter with the splendor that only Michigan can provide.
The tourists are gone and the purists remain, save for the vestige of our annual refrain.
To live in the Midwest is truly a gift of seasonal survival. We brave the torrent of spring rain as we traverse the bridge to summer, we endure the harsh rays of an unforgiving sun as we strive for harvest, we pray for rain yet curse the floods, and we thank the soil for all that she bestows upon us. Thank you Mother Earth!
Tonight the sky is crimson red which is due in no small part to the dust kicked up by the harvesters as framed in the foreground of the setting sun.
To smell the soil is quite remarkable, to await the harvest is our destiny.
These unadulterated parcels of productive farmland our quickly becoming the dinosaurs of our modern era and unless we recognize them for the significance that they represent we risk losing them to the urbanization of the housing market.
It is time to educate ourselves as to the existence of PDR's and Conservation Easements as well as a plethora of other land preservation mechanisms as we endeavor to set aside the very essence of family value as it pertains to our dinner table and how we feed our families.
Can you make a difference or will you stand by waiting for somebody else to do something?
I await your reply...and so does the rest of the Midwest!