Ryan Dennis

I was living in Ireland in 2009 when the latest world dairy crisis hit. Farmers there – many of them small – suddenly had to figure out how to find extra income to remain solvent. I would be swept up in the same spirit of necessary venture capitalism.

If there’s one thing found on a farm regardless of all else, it’s barn cats. They roam everywhere, living detached lives in dusty rafters and bedded stalls. The barn cat is a strong animal because he has to be.

It would be inaccurate to not mention the first thing I noticed about him: He was wearing purple pants. I marked this down as yet another difference.

I find it especially annoying when someone tells me to consider myself lucky and then names a far-away country they know little about. (While I hope, growing up, I had sufficient empathy for the children of Mozambique, I was able to realize that whether or not I finished my vegetables was disconnected from their fate).

Sometimes I am struck by how fields keep their past. No matter how thoroughly a dead furrow seems to be disked before new seeding, you can still find it after every cutting.

As I write, the last of the snow is melting away. Area farmers are looking at futures and weather predictions, deciding what to put in the ground. The same thing is repeated often: “It’s a gamble.” The same sentiment is also used to express feelings about agriculture in general.