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Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©
An Uncle’s Field of Memories
The older man rocked back and forth on the porch swing, the wood creaking under his weight. His nephew, Jake, sat cross-legged on the wooden planks, listening intently. The evening sun stretched its shadows long across the yard, the golden light flickering through the trees.
“You ever run through a plowed field, boy?”
Uncle Neb asked, a slow grin spreading across his weathered face.
Jake wrinkled his nose.
“Why would I do that?”
Ole Neb chuckled.
“Ah, you don’t know what you’re missin’. When I was your age, runnin’ through a fresh-plowed field was the best thing in the world. The dirt was soft, the furrows deep. Felt like jumpin’ across waves in the ocean—only, it was earth beneath your feet, not water.”
Jake smirked.
“Sounds messy.”
“Sure was!”
Uncle Neb laughed.
“And I’d get a good whuppin’ from your grandma for trackin’ mud in the house, too.”
He leaned back, sighing.
“Every spring, my daddy plowed and prepared the land to plant maize and oats. That was our winter feed for the livestock. Down at the bottom of our place, we had an alfalfa field. Grew some of the best in the county, thanks to the floods from the neighbor’s lake.”
“Wait—you let your field flood on purpose?”
Jake asked, wide-eyed.
“Didn’t have a choice, boy! The heavy spring rains would swell that lake, and the water would just roll over into our land. But let me tell you, that soaked ground made the alfalfa thick and green. We never had to worry about our cattle goin’ hungry.”
Jake traced a knot in the porch wood with his finger.
“You had cattle?”
“Sure did. Horses and chickens, guineas, goats—you name it. Had a big ol’ barn on the west side of the place where we kept ’em. But there was one animal I couldn’t go near—one of our milk cows. It is the meanest thing you have ever seen. That cow would lower her head and charge at me as soon as she spotted me.”
Jake grinned.
“You were scared of a cow?”
Uncle Neb narrowed his eyes playfully.
“You woulda been too, boy! Kids had tormented that cow before she came to us. Made her mad as a hornet. Your grandpa had to milk her himself ’cause she wouldn’t let nobody else close.”
Jake laughed.
“Sounds like she had a grudge.”
“That she did. But that was life on the farm, son. You learned to work with what you had, respect the land, and steer clear of mad cows.”
Ole Neb winked.
“Now come on, let’s go walk that field out back. Maybe you’ll see why runnin’ through dirt felt like flyin’ to a boy like me.”
Jake hesitated, then hopped up.
“Alright, Uncle Neb. But if I trip, you owe me ice cream.”
Neb laughed, his voice warm as the setting sun.
“Deal, boy. Deal.”
And together, they walked toward the fields, the past and gift blending with every step.
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