January 19, 2019

The first major winter storm of the year is upon us here in Central KY (and much of the northeast). While most folks are raiding the nearest grocery stores for ridiculous amounts of bread and milk, us livestock farmers can be found outdoors, frantically preparing for the impending cold weather by stocking up on copious amounts of hay and feed, checking and rechecking stock tank heaters, wrestling uncooperative animals into coats, cussing the inescapable mud we wade through, and casting disgruntled glares at the darkening skies. At night, we lay awake listening to the howl of the wind and the creak of our homes, slowly slipping into a sleep riddled with unsettling dreams full of farm animals being whisked away in the wind in a fashion similar to Dorothy’s house in the Wizard of Oz.

I can say that this winter in Kentucky has been quite mild so far, with the only serious accumulation being mud. Yep, we’ve gotten months and months worth of rain- rain that comes down steadily for days on end, turning our pastures into mud pits and our barn floors into creeks. To say I am tired of the rain is an understatement. I am sure my sheep and alpacas would doubly agree with that sentiment. This year’s hay crop has been seriously poor, and the parasites, which are normally killed off by a good long freeze, are still thriving in the fields.

Outside of the farming community, I can see that the general public is every bit as down and gloomy as the grey landscape we see in every direction. With as much constant rain and overcast weather we’ve been having, its enough to give even the brightest person a healthy dose of seasonal depression. I myself have been slugging through my days, tired and uninspired, going through the motions like everyone else.

Maybe that’s why I was so appreciative of the little bit of sun that broke through right in the middle of the storm- I was almost shocked to see the bright light streak through the many clouds and felt a smile automatically grow on my face. “Hello, Mr.Sun!” I chanted, as I squinted in it’s direction, my heart growing warm. (Since I was driving on the highway at this particular moment, I forced myself to focus on the road and not swerve erratically towards the light like a desperate moth).

Noting the heavy rain still falling through the brightness, I said aloud, “This is the perfect recipe for a rainbow!”….and BAM! As soon as those words left my mouth, there it was- a magnificent double rainbow appeared in the sky ahead of me, like a giant, upside down smile. I immediately found a safe place to pull over so I could take some photos, ignoring the stares and head shakes of people in the other cars and trucks passing me by. You see, we do get a decent amount of rainbows here in Kentucky, thanks to our rainy climate, so to most people this might not have been such a significant event. But I needed this one today. And this rainbow was exceptionally clear and bright.

After months of mud and cold and dreariness, I needed something to give me a little lift and remind me that life is not so bad after all. Why is it we only need a tiny little thing to keep us going on the darkest days? I guess you’ll find that if you keep pushing through, you’ll eventually find something to keep you going. The sight of that rainbow made these months of rain worthwhile. All the days I pondered throwing in the towel on this whole farming thing, thoughts of giving up and moving back to the “easy” life in the city…it was gone with one look at the beautiful sky.

I love it here. And I love what I do. That is why I am here, and that is why I push through the rough times and keep going. I am so thankful for that beautiful reminder in the sky.

And as I got back into my truck and drove away, I was surprised to see a few other cars pulled over about a half mile down the road (one of which was the same person who initially shook their head at me when I first pulled over), with their phones out of the windows, snapping shots of the beautiful rainbow that I know warmed their hearts and gave them a smile in the middle of this dreary storm called life.