Sept. 13 2024 12:01 PM

    One of the best places to be at night is on the farm.

    It’s been a while since I had a true sense of calm. Between fall field work, family obligations, a busy 1-year-old, and another pregnancy, I seem to be moving at full speed constantly. So, while doing evening feeding and checking cattle late one night, I stopped, looked up at the black sky, speckled with bright, glowing stars and just took a deep breath.

    Being the only person out and about on the farm late at night is about as calming as it can get (minus if cows are out or someone is calving, of course). On this particular night, I had just dumped some feed for our younger calves, looked over every pen by the illumination of a flashlight and then walked back toward the house in the quiet darkness alone. The few minutes of serenity led me to a small revelation.

    While my 1-year-old is a true farm girl, I don’t think that’s the only reason half her children’s books are either farm or goodnight farm related. I think goodnight farm is such a common children’s book concept because it is truly peaceful and dreamy. Late night on the farm is an almost religious experience. It’s you and the calm murmur of cattle rustling in their bedding, horses eating grass in the pasture, a calf slurping some water, and the occasional chime of a gate chain clinking. Being among all the calm animals in the night centers you and is a very rejuvenating moment in time. It’s no wonder that serene feeling has been captured in countless children’s books.

    Those quiet moments in the night bring me back to childhood, when I would wake in the early morning hours, don my chore boots and venture outside to find my parents already hard at work doing early morning milking. The chill in the night air and darkness of the country sky is trance-like and always feels so nostalgic to me. So, while I appreciate my sleep, I can also appreciate those late-night chores as a reminder of slower, calmer times on the farm as a contrast to the many busy sounds of animals and machinery throughout the long days of working on the farm.



    Molly Ihde (Schmitt)

    The author dairy farms with her parents and brother near Hawkeye, Iowa. The family milks approximately 300 head of grade Holstein cows at Windsor Valley Dairy LLC — split half and half between a double-eight parallel milking parlor and four robotic milking units. In the spring of 2020, Molly decided to take a leap and fully embrace her love for the industry by returning full time to her family’s dairy.