I joke a lot that moving to upstate New York meant that my definition of things changed. Going shopping in “the city” now means grocery shopping in Amsterdam and not a spree in Manhattan. Greenwich is now pronounced GREEN-wich and not, well, the right way. And that my idea of a morning commute is getting stuck behind a manure spreader putting down the road and not bumper to bumper traffic.
It’s easy to joke about the pace of life around here. I remember always being worried in CT when my brother and father took the tractor and equipment out to do field work. There, the field was a good ten to fifteen miles down the road. There, people didn’t have the patience or temperament to cautiously wait behind or carefully pass the tractor.
It’s also easy to be lulled into a sense of safety now that we go up the hill or down the road. But a tractor is always a dangerous thing and drivers are always in a hurry no matter where they are. I was reminded of that fact this morning. The other night an acquaintance of mine was killed while driving his tractor home. A country road, a teen driver, a collission. The tractor went into a ditch and rolled on Dave, killing him.
So, on that note, during this season of field work when, or if, you get stuck behind someone putting down the road on their tractor with manure spreader, planter or bailer in tow remember to sit back, take a breath and think.