It is harvest time. I know this (for among other reasons, really) because farmers are up early and out on the road disturbing the usual quiet of my walk with the sounds of tractors moving from field to field, the cutting of silage, and overhead, a crop duster whose job it is to fly wheat seed onto the fields for the next crop. There is a tremendous lot of industry first thing in the morning, and conversation too – every pickup truck that goes by holds a neighbor who wants to postpone crawling onto a tractor for just a few more minutes – so will stop and discuss the weather, the state of the crop, the beer bottles tossed into the corn. As near as we live to each other, we don’t really see each other much – mostly for these roadside chats.
So it was challenging to build a guitar on the road today – but it was gratifying too as I talked to Miss Katherine, John Henry, Ronnie, and Kenny, and waved to everyone else. Miss Katherine was the only one who wanted to know why I was kneeling alongside the road – but her job is not to crawl into tractors, but to make sure everything is being done. Makes sense that she would need to know. The guys really want to just get the work done and not have to deal with what they think I might be doing out there. If it comes down to it, they are more likely to ask Miss Katherine.