I need to get out more and discover material to report. For a change up, I’m going to give my following an opportunity to review my novelistic talent.
Strangeness in the South 40
Our farm operation was several years behind the times. Our neighbors planted straight rows using GPS and enjoyed the comfortable controlled environment of a modern tractor. We didn’t always have the luxury of a cab, and guided by dead reckoning. The tractors that did have cabs were nothing more than a noisy box to shelter from wind and wet. I had learned to layer clothing to utilize my own body heat. I actually preferred to drive an open station unit anyway.
There was just something about the feel and smell this evening. The chill fall air was pleasant against my only exposer, my face. I cold smell the rich earth as the dirt glided and rolled through the three bottom plow I was pulling. I was operating one of my favorite tractors. It was built several years before I was even born, but it stood up, proudly, to the duties asked of it. The old Farmall M purred like the well tuned machine it was. I admired the shine of the red hood before me. Hints of warmth came from the exhaust stack that lightly glowed from the work strain. It was a wonderful evening to be farming.
Dusk was starting to darken the pale clear sky now. The colorful pastel canvas displayed shades of blue, green and hints of red. It wasn’t quite dark enough to really need lights, but shadows were starting to creep from the timbered field edge. Darkness was beginning to claim the landscape. This particular area of the farm could give a particular sense of forbidding. Tonight revealed to be one of those nights of eeriness.
A turn around was coming up. The end row was shaded by the timber edge. I noticed corn stalks were jamming up my middle plow shear, which would need kicked out before it plugged tightly. I rolled to a stop and idled the tractor down. Sighing dejectedly, I stood and stepped backwards down to the U shape of the drawbar and stepped further down until I was on the ground. I took out an ear plug and let my hearing adjust to the surroundings. It was silent, just way to quiet. The only sound was the tractor engine idling. This was very peculiar. My eyes gazed slowly and carefully around, but I didn’t realize anything extraordinary.
I should be hearing crickets, maybe some woodland cadences, but….nothing. My footsteps loudly crunched as I maneuvered myself to clear the plow shear. My body felt like electric adrenaline was quickly flowing, this caused me to go on high alert. I couldn’t shake the feeling as if I was being watched. I quickly bent to my task, the sooner I could get back on the operator’s seat, the sooner I could move on.
Tink! A rock the size of my fist hit the shear to my right. I jumped barely missing bumping my head against the plow frame. As I turned to scan the tree line another large rock zipped inches past my head. There had been power propelling the object. I heard a whizz sound as it past, impacting the ground with a hard thump behind me.
“What the…” I exclaimed not finishing my thought. A VERY large dark indescribable shadow moved directly in front of me. Out of the darkness a man shaped form materialized. This was nobody I recognized! I judged the figure to stand at least eight feet tall!
A very primitive looking being with menacing dark eyes stood just beyond my tractor. Dark hair covered a majority of the naked body. This was very decidedly male, I’m not going into detail on that, just trust me. He was extremely well muscled and presented a athletic body a wrestler or football player would desire.
We stood within a short few yards of each other. I was trembling with fear, but I stood my ground trying to hide my terror. I could feel a penetrating gaze as if I was being measured and evaluated. Finally the mighty beast, nonchalantly turned and walked away as if I were being dismissed. I heard a loud crunch behind me and I quickly turned to see a large fleeting shadow disappear into the woods on my right. There had been more than one!
Shakily collecting myself, I climbed back in the operator’s chair on wobbling legs. I was done plowing for the evening. In fact I picked a higher gear to get back to the farmstead.
Antique Iron Media 