Yesterday, Veteran’s Day, came in windy and cold in Kansas.  As I hurried toward the church door the wind caught me by the legs, scooting me along with my cape as a sail.  Although a bit bitter for a walk I couldn’t resist a few minutes out by the windrow to check on the birds and varmints that can always  be found there.

I have few memories of my childhood or stories that were told by a parent, but the story surrounding the planting of the windbreak trees is all mine.  The farm stands on a rise that just dares a gust to come along, and since many did, the only way to protect the barnyard and cattle was to plant a windrow.  My penny-pinching father went to the agriculture service office and bought some affordable cedar starts, I am sure no larger than a foot tall and in a hundred-bundle.  When they arrived on the bitter March winter day they had to be planted or die.  Since Dad had a job at the aircraft plant, it was left to Mom to dig a hundred holes, plant the trees in frozen ground, and water them in.

I am told I was a fussy baby and had a tendency to be croupy, so my mother nursed me for a few months after birth, thinking it would make me a little healthier.  The day the trees arrived, I was a few months old and am told I had a bad cold and cried constantly.  Any other woman would probably have told the trees to forget it, but Mom was aFeather history “get-er-done” gal so she spent the day digging two holes and then returning to the house to check on me.  Dig another two, check on me.  Every dozen holes she would pause to nurse me and try to get me to sleep, which was summarily unsuccessful.  Laughter bubbles up in me every time I think of the situation, although it had to have been a miserable memory for my mother.

The windrow served its purpose for many years and continues to be a luxury I allow myself as owner of that farm.  The barnyard still sits atop a rise and winds still rattle the doors of the barn, so its original value remains.  Over the years, many of the cedars have died and have been replaced by a good variety of smaller trees.  The fifty+ yard row now contains native hackberry, Osage orange, and new cedar starts.  It makes an ideal environment for birds and deer and I frequently see my old owl, hundreds of goldfinch, hummers and bluebirds there.   Today, I see the feathers from turkey, so I know they are close.  Just as I turn to leave, I see a movement and Shy Deerturn to see a deer moving quietly.  I smile and stand frozen and enjoy its shyness.

Many land owners have removed windbreaks and hedge rows as a tradeoff for increased production, but I have resisted that.  In the fifteen years I have owned the farm, there have been two dust seasons where the earth was dry from drought and the wind carried the top soil for miles.  Had my farm not been anchored by the trees, it would have been in another county as well. 

11/18/2012 4:02:14 AM

Joan, I've worked on some projects in Kansas and I can attest to wind like I have never experienced any where else. We have strong wind in Nebraska during storms but not just because it can like Kansas. I helped my uncle plant his windbreak when I was about eight or ten years old. He acquired them from some government program that was selling them dirt cheap. They were just little sprigs like you describe so I suspect they may have been planted around the same time as your Mom planted yours. The trees that my uncle planted were not cedar but they weren't the long term trees like oak or walnut either. Almost every farm house in Nebraska still have a windbreak around the house and barn buildings. Nebraska like Kansas has many trees that have been planted by parents or grand parents. It seems that my uncle's parents, my grand parents, were more into fruit trees than wind breaks. I think the old orchard is gone now but the wind break lives on. Have a great windbreak day.

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