I grew up in a farming community just south of Syracuse, NY. My father and I had a good sized flock of Karakul sheep from the time I was 10 years old until I was a senior in high school. When I got old enough to drive our 1949 Farmall tractor, it was my job in the fall to clean all the previous manure and soiled hay off the ground floor of the barn where the sheep lived during the winter. Every day that it wasn't raining after school, I'd get off the bus, have a snack, change into barn clothes and load the manure spreader using a pitchfork and shovel, then take the full loads out into the pasture to spread as fertilizer. My route went under a big old apple tree that yielded some of the best tasting apples I've ever had, and I'd stand up on the tractor's deck as I passed beneath it to pluck one and have a few bites as I continued out to the field in the cool autumn afternoon air. I'd stand up again to throw the core out as far as I could. Even as a teenaged boy, I appreciated that this was a wonderful element of my upbringing, and that I was privileged to experience it. Honestly, I looked forward to the annual barn cleaning, which took from the start of school until late October to complete. I liked it far better than being a spectator at one of my high school's soccer games.
Yesterday morning, I drove the 40 miles to the cabinet manufacturer who is my full time consulting client in New Holland, Pennsylvania. The sun had just risen, and a light fog was rising up from the mostly harvested fields on the small family farms of eastern Lancaster county. I passed a tractor pulling an old manure spreader, and felt a pang of nostalgia for my teenage fall ritual. Then, turning in to the driveway to Premier's shop, I noticed this old Farmall tractor sitting in front of an equipment rental place. It was about the same age as our old tractor at home. It was nearly time for me to get to work, but I parked my car and took a little time to sketch this piece of history, and to spend a few more minutes in the cool morning air, remembering a precious bit of my youth.
Farmall tractor, New Holland, PA, 11 9/16 x 8 1/4, 9B graphite and watercolor pencils