It was winter and the threat of not being able to get hay out to the cattle was plaguing me, yet again. The tractor wouldn’t start – which happens to be the case in reality which is why I had to move firewood by hand instead of using the front-end loader. The cattle were growing increasingly gaunt from starvation. There was some attempt to start a garden. Why in the middle of winter I can’t say, but then again, it was a dream. The ground was hard and barren (of course, it was the dead of winter). Anything we planted barely came up if at all (again, winter – hello). There was the chicken coop, where somebody was exclaiming how well they had sealed it off from predators. Yet, there before me, with seasoned eyes of having done the same thing, I easily could see gaps in the wire where a chicken-killing demons could enter. A wisp, a blur of shadows, and quickly there was the feeling of some dark force finding what I too could see. It slipped into the outside run through a mere four-inch by four-inch gap, and was soon within the coop. Death was imminent. My mind then reverted back to the cows, now standing at the edge of the pasture under the canopy of barren trees, waiting patiently for food – of which there was none. Their bodies showing signs of great hunger. The desperation of needing to get the tractor running overwhelmed me to the point I awoke. My lower back now a screaming flame of pain. The previous day’s firewood collection was more than I really could handle alone. Aging has taken a toll on my abilities to work alone. Tormented, I got out of bed, knowing that even in sleep, I could not get free of those many years of farming and the emotional trauma it inflicts upon the weary soul.
Daily Archives: January 8, 2023
[Dream] – Farming Trauma
Filed under Farming