Typical day as a farmworker in Westshore Michigan ages “control of own motor skills-early 20s”
wakeup before the sun hard boiled eggs and tortillas because poverty pack into the ol’ snow salt rusted F-150 and drive to the fields setup the machines me because my height work horse/strength heightist af top off the vehicle fluids load the machines/ryders with the plastic harvest tubs ryde out to the fresh fields for spears asparagus season before ending the day with the processing fields spend the next 12-15 hours harvesting up and down each row with the ryder engine blaring so loud it cancels out all other noises.
You’re left with your own thoughts since muscle memory autopilots your hands when harvesting that’s when I would add to the stories my mom would tell us of which many are still in the journals I kept.
Keep an eye out for morels after a rain those asparagus fields sprouted morel mushrooms we sold them to an backroad woodsman named Dan in exchange for expertly rolled cigarettes using his own tobacco plants he grew after the tubs were filled - again - I would unload each one into a 500 pound wooden box continue this cycle till the fields were empty of green veggies tomorrow the same. We did this no matter the weather high/low heat/cold rain wind all elements. Apple cherry carrot zucchini cucumber and peach seasons were different and I would harvest with other families.
This is one of the field stories. #multinarrative #shortstory #fiction
1 hour ago