The Farm is Where the Heart Is
By Angie Bromeland
Anika loved to stroll alongside the fence by the cow pasture. She could count fenceposts all afternoon. But mostly, she loved watching the cows. Some were jersey brown, and two were black, but most were black and white Holsteins, which she always thought looked like cows in a storybook. The group of cows were so mild and mellow, they always made Anika feel calm. She loved to hear their low bellow, though they were usually silent. A few cows wore bells around their necks. Each bell sounded a little different, but each was beautiful. Usually, the cattle just grazed on the grass, or lumbered around lazily. But sometimes, Anika would see one roll in the dirt, and it always surprised her to see the huge creature move like that. Even the smell there in the pasture was soothing to Anika. The lush, sweet grass mixed with the scent of clover plants. The cattle’s leathery scent drifted in waves. The rich dirt beneath her feet wafted to her nose. When it all mixed together, as it did here in the pasture, the scent came alive. It made Anika’s heart swell. This feeling is how she knew she was a true farmer. She couldn’t imagine having to sell the farm and move to the city. This is where her heart belonged. The farm made her happy when she was sad. It made her well when she was sick. She knew the land by heart, and the animals by name. The farm could quell her angriest moods. Visiting the city might be a fun adventure, but Anika lived her best life here on the farm, where only the sounds of machinery interrupted the grass growing and animals calling. It was true, what her grandfather always said: The farm is where the heart is.
Anika loved to stroll alongside the fence by the cow pasture. She could count fenceposts all afternoon. But mostly, she loved watching the cows. Some were jersey brown, and two were black, but most were black and white Holsteins, which she always thought looked like cows in a storybook. The group of cows were so mild and mellow, they always made Anika feel calm. She loved to hear their low bellow, though they were usually silent. A few cows wore bells around their necks. Each bell sounded a little different, but each was beautiful. Usually, the cattle just grazed on the grass, or lumbered around lazily. But sometimes, Anika would see one roll in the dirt, and it always surprised her to see the huge creature move like that. Even the smell there in the pasture was soothing to Anika. The lush, sweet grass mixed with the scent of clover plants. The cattle’s leathery scent drifted in waves. The rich dirt beneath her feet wafted to her nose. When it all mixed together, as it did here in the pasture, the scent came alive. It made Anika’s heart swell. This feeling is how she knew she was a true farmer. She couldn’t imagine having to sell the farm and move to the city. This is where her heart belonged. The farm made her happy when she was sad. It made her well when she was sick. She knew the land by heart, and the animals by name. The farm could quell her angriest moods. Visiting the city might be a fun adventure, but Anika lived her best life here on the farm, where only the sounds of machinery interrupted the grass growing and animals calling. It was true, what her grandfather always said: The farm is where the heart is.
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