Most soybean fields in my home state now look like English gardens, with precision
rows and soft breezes rippling along the tops of weedless soybean plants. In
one respect, it’s a shame. In the pre-GMO days, soybean fields had personality.
The
classy ones were neat and orderly, with maybe a few weeds along the fence rows
and waterways. The owners kept their cultivators sharpened, and they pounced
when weeds showed above the bean rows, especially if drivers could see them
from the road.
The
casual soybean fields were mixed but salvageable. Wayward stalks of corn would
shoot up, cocklebur patches hovered low and menacing, and sections of off-green
buttonweeds tried to hide among the soybeans. Farmers usually battled these
weeds, with varying results.
A few
fields were fashion disasters. Clumps of volunteer corn dotted the rows, burrs
and buttonweeds took over sections of the field, and ironweeds looked like
sapling trees. Occasionally, thistle patches would get so out of control,
somebody would just have to post an “Enter at Your Own Risk” sign.
In
the 1960s, soybean fields made for good talking points. By June it was obvious
which ones would need to be “walked”—weeded by stoop laborers…or teenagers like us.
Farmers would hire youngsters to go row-by-row to pull weeds. My brothers,
cousins, and I started walking beans on the home place about as soon as we were
potty-trained, but Dad let us hire out to neighbors by the time we were 12 or
so. Child labor laws were flexible then, and the 50-cents-an-hour wage that
first year didn’t bring the IRS down on us.
We’d
often start early to beat the heat; dew-drenched, with mud sticking to our
Keds’ sneakers, we’d trudge along, pulling most weeds, chopping some, and
basically wrestling with the ones that seemed more like outer-space triffids.
Heat, thirst, and blowflies were irritating, but mud-clod fights with a cousin
eight rows over could be dangerous. It was satisfying to see the field get
“clean and tidy” several rows at a time, but we were really after pocket money
to buy a top-40 vinyl record or admission to the roller skating rink a farm
family had set up in a nearby converted hog barn.
I’m
not blaming the biotech crowd, but soybean fields became soul-less during the past years—bland and
beautiful, like some type of cloned fields of dreams. Chemicals weeded out us bean walkers, but the new super weeds are herbicide resistant and increasingly aggressive. I better be careful what I wish for--I'm not pining to dig out hoes, gloves, and mud shoes again.
by dan gogerty (top pic from uky.edu.jpg and bottom from foodintegritynow.com)
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