The Fields and Meadows Sing for Joy - The Hills Too
May the fields of the wilderness be rich for grazing,
and the hills be clothed with joy.
May the meadows cover themselves with flocks,
and the valleys cloak themselves with grain;
let them shout for joy and sing.
Psalm 65:13-14
It is such a joy to live where this psalm comes to life.
I remember watching a television show that was featuring some high end restaurant, showing what care was taken to provide the very best beef to its customers, the aging process in preparation for the kitchen. A delivery truck drove up to the back door. The voice over said, “This is where it begins.”
We laughed!
Nah. This aging process comes well near the end of the process.
Long before that food hits the plate, long before it hits the butcher, there are people who work whatever hours it takes to care for their animals. In the springtime they check the herd or flock throughout the day to monitor pregnancies. They pull all-nighters to help their animals with difficult deliveries. If they are late for church or absent, we know the reason.
But before that, the process of food on our plates begins with the grass on the hillside, with food for that future steak or lamb chop to graze.
We rejoice when the sun shines and the grass grows. When the season is cold and wet, the grass cannot grow. The farmers struggle through the winter to buy feed for their stock.
We fret when there is no rain. If there is no rain, farmers can’t spread slurry on the fields to make the grass grow more. Then if the rain doesn’t stop, the fields are too wet to fertilize. The tractors would damage the ground and the slurry would run off into the water supply.
All this. The food on our plates begins with a balance of sun and rain. And in between, the toil and risk of farmers. Their love and care for their land, their herds, their water.
And sometimes it all comes together. The sun, the rain, the work. The next generation to continue these cycles.
And it’s beautiful.
On our Saturday walk, we passed a field just as the sheep were being moved to the next pasture. The shepherd told one of us to stand in one driveway, the other to stand in another. We got to spend a few minutes helping the animals find their way.
No photo or film of the occasion. But here is one from nine years ago when we walked the Wicklow Way.
We pray Psalm 65 in the fall, as part of the Harvest Festival. We live it. One year on, we will celebrate the more for having witnessed what the harvest entails.
We will join the meadows and valleys as they sing with joy.
Have you ever been able to participate in food production?