A 'Classic' Last Windrow: Remembering a farm helper
I was following a silage wagon full of silage one day last week on my way home from work. The swirling corn leaves covered my pickup and it brought back a memory of a guy who used to cut the silage on our small farm.
His first name was Dick. Ours was a symbiotic relationship in which we both survived and got the crop in. The following Last Windrow was written some years ago remembering those silo filling days in northwest Iowa.
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