Dear Farm Journal,
I go about the local deliveries today and get a taste of the “nearness blues” which must have strummed at Rufus’s heart strings yesterday. I’m belted by the juxtapositions of life and death, love and fear. Newborn lambs and calves suckle beneath their mothers in roadside pastures as the radio reports virus death tolls. My heart nearly leaps from behind my ribs when I see our friends, family, and customers, but collapses heavily in my gut as we stagger in reverse to maintain social distance. I confine my arms to the side of my waist again and again as they naturally reach to embrace babies and encircle loved ones. I smile and curb my cued up crying. I get back in the van, and just sob. Back at the farm, I rinse my face and get back to building gardens. If I can’t hold my people, at least I can feed them.

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