There’s something special about the rhythm of a farm. It’s steady and sure, like the sunrise that greets each new day. Before the world stirs, farmers are already in motion — milking cows, checking fields, or climbing into tractors to coax life from the soil. It’s not a job you clock in and out of; it’s a way of life, woven deep into who they are.

I’ve always admired that kind of quiet dedication — the early mornings, the weathered hands, and the unwavering hope that comes with every planted seed. Farming teaches patience, faith, and resilience. It’s watching the skies, trusting the land, and believing that hard work and heart will yield something good.

October 12th was National Farmers Day, so we pause to honor the people who make it all possible — the dairy farmers, crop growers, ranchers, beekeepers, orchard tenders, and everyone who keeps our tables full and our communities strong.

Here’s a little verse I wrote to celebrate them:

The heart of the land beats in their hands --

from dawn’s first light to harvest’s end.

From seed to soil, from faith to field,

farmers sow what the world can’t yield. 

Behind every meal, every harvest, every bloom in a field of wildflowers, there’s a farmer — someone who believed in the promise of tomorrow and worked tirelessly to bring it to life.

Let’s take a moment to give thanks — not just for the food on our plates, but for the people who make it possible. For the early risers, the risk-takers, the stewards of the land. Their work is more than a livelihood; it’s a legacy.

Here’s to the farmers — the true heart of the land.