Lord of the harvest, Lord of the field...

photo by Brent

On Sunday we sang a Thanksgiving song that was new to me.  I really liked it and so want to share it with you, my faithful reader ("Hi Mom!").

Lord of the harvest, Lord of the field, 
give thanks now to God in nature revealed. 

Give thanks for the sun,
the wind and the rain.
And thanks for the crops
that feed us again.
The corn safely cut is gathered inside.
We thank you, O Lord, that you can provide.
Lord of the harvest, Lord of the field, 
give thanks now to God in nature revealed. 

The trees ripe with fruit
stand proud in the sun,
we gather them now
that summer is gone.
For yours is the wonder, yours is the power.
Yours is the glory of fruit and of flower.
Lord of the harvest, Lord of the field, 
give thanks now to God in nature revealed.

So in all our plenty,
help us to see,
the needs all around whatever they be.
With food for the body, strength for the soul,
it’s healing and caring, making them whole.
Lord of the harvest, Lord of the field,
give thanks now to God in nature revealed.
("Lord of the Harvest" by Jancis Harvey)

One reason I liked it so much (beside the obvious) is the line "The corn safely cut is gathered inside."  A week ago I watched the corn in the field next to Ploughshares Farm get safely cut.  I stood out in the middle of the field while Doug Cook combined around me.  And, while standing there, I thought of the nation's farmers who feed us and others (as I don't grow my own!).  I also thought -- and rejoiced in -- how these fields and the corn and beans and all feed more than just humans or livestock.

As I stood there, a great rustling took place around me and out of the uncut corn ran two of the fattest raccoons I had ever seen.  Doug spotted them, too, and was not quite as amused as I was that they had found a feast in his corn.  Other critters ran from the approaching John Deere, their summer/autumn home slowly disappearing around them.  They all looked well fed.

The next couple of days I witnessed other animals feasting in the field.  A pretty doe was nosing through the field, shoving aside corn stubble to get to ears that had been missed by the combine due to having been knocked down by two huge wind storms two weeks ago.  Flocks of birds settled in clouds of blackness among the rows of sheared stalks and squawked and cawed and chirped their way looking for kernels.

Lord of the harvest, Lord of the field, 
give thanks now to God in nature revealed.

Indeed.