The World Gets Quiet

November.

In farming circles, this is the time of year when the abundance of harvest gives way to fallow ground. Farm equipment and workers are stilled, moving inside for maintenance and repair. Bare ground and brown stubble are everywhere in evidence. And the world gets quiet.

November’s lowering skies perfectly suit its empty fields.

I have loved this feeling of peaceful completion ever since I was a child growing up on my Grandpop’s farm. It’s more than merely a winding down, more than an accomplishment. The year is nearly over. But the holidays and the new year are still a season or two away yet. Snow must fly. Cold winds must whip our cheeks and chill our bones.

In the meantime, the fields rest. We rest. What is, perhaps, ironic is that this feeling would be largely absent without the hubbub and the harvest that comes before. It is the contrast that makes the moment so moving. Striving ceases. The growing darkness of the pre-solstice period rules our everyday, for it is not yet the season of Christmas lights and cheer.

This quiet is needed. We’ve run full tilt through summer, glorying in long evenings spent outside. We’ve accomplished project after project, fueled by daylight. We’ve reveled in October abundance and pronounced it all good. And in November, before the crush and fun of the annual holiday season begins, we enjoy the quiet.

Fallow field
cc-by-sa/2.0 – © N Chadwick – geograph.org.uk/p/5364243