#WritePhoto: Farmer's Revolt
|Image credit KL Caley|
I am writing this for the weekly #WritePhoto challenge by KL Caley at New2Writing.com. Read all about it and join in if you'd like!
I have decided to try my best to join in on this hop again, and while this photo is particularly challenging in my opinion (there's a lot of empty space there... what's that tractor up to?), I think I can pull off a bit of something, so here goes.
Super short, just over 300 words.
Jane Amelia was bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored. She’d driven the tractor across this field a hundred times, trying hard to keep the rows straight and even, as her father had instructed her. And for what?
She left neat rows of cut hay for the next bored driver with the rake, then the baler, while she moved on to the next field, and the next, and the next. World without end, amen.
The house was just over there, behind the trees that kept the yard separate from the fields. She could go home, have a cup of coffee and one of Mom’s oatmeal cookies before moving on to the next hayfield.
Of course, Mom wouldn’t let her in the house, all covered in dust and chaff from the mowing. And Dad would yell at her for slacking off, with hay to cut and rain in the forecast. And they couldn’t even afford one of the nice tractors with an air-conditioned cab and a sound system so she could listen to music, or her podcasts.
Jane Amelia remembered when she first learned to drive the tractor. It was exciting to sit up on the high seat and control that power. She’d driven a wavy line across the field on her first attempt, and Dad had immediately begun to teach her to drive a straight and unwavering row.
He’d been teaching her boredom, in the name of being a good farmer.
Smiling at a new idea, Jane Amelia began to cut great curves through the hay, enjoying the rhythm of the sweeping turns.
Dad would be mad, but Matt, up behind in the rake, would appreciate the change. No more well-tended boredom; he’d have to pay attention to follow those rows.
If it wasn’t quite a cure for boredom, it was, at least, Jane Amelia’s small protest against the straight and narrow.