Not very many of these old wood barns still stand in my part of the world. So many have been knocked down and burned up in order to free up a few thousand (sometimes a few more hundred) more square feet for growing a cash crop. I have driven past this one for almost ten years, and hold my breath every time I drive in its direction.
The result of the teams’ efforts. What to my untrained eye appears to be straight furrows of pretty much equal depth and leavings (heaps? don’t know what they are called) with little if any growth on top.
I can scarcely imagine plowing a field, for real, then planting.
I expected to see almost all teams being composed of horses being guided by old guys, guys in their 50’s and older. It was good to see more than a few teams guided by two-footeds who were apparently in their 30s and 40s, some in their 20s.
Knowing, being able to practice, this science (and art) may become important in the not too distant future.
I went to the 2018 International Plowing Match today. The IPM is a big deal for rural Ontarians (and politicians – excuse me while I rolleyes) and this was my first chance to go.
I avoided politicians and spent a good amount of time watching and admiring the horse plowing competition. As things started, this handsome team walked by.