Early evening is perfect for a walk–a classic fall ambiance curls into the crisp air. Tango and I drive a few miles to a favorite walking spot in the county. We park near the road, skip across railroad tracks, and wander off on a section line road: a wide dirt path that parallels the train tracks to the south and drifting agricultural fields to the north. I remove Tango’s leash, and he trots into the weeds, sniffing, smelling, investigating.
A train sits idle, abandoned. I first saw it here a month ago. I realize now that the train’s mission is to carry the local grain harvest to a processor; after all, the train lingers near shiny metal grain towers lined up along the tracks about a quarter-mile to the west. Harvest is underway, and these train cars look like they could hold grain – the tops are fully enclosed, unlike the Wyoming coal cars that sail down the tracks towards coal-fired plants. Yes. This will be a wheat or barley train, perhaps, headed for a brewery. (See end of post for information about the Soo Line)
As we walk past the train, I see a corn field full of stubble, most likely the scanty remains of silage corn that will soon be ground up and fed to cattle over the long winter. I like the word “stubble” and I like the texture of corn stubble. Stubble, stubble stubble. Double stubble. A large swath of alfalfa and grasses has been cut and rolled neatly into huge round bales. The symmetry and size of the bales make them curiously picturesque. A row or two of stacked bales is captivating, and I never tire of taking or viewing photos of the iconic round bales.
More walking. Now I pass small yellow flowers, perky again after the rain (that rainfall we walked in yesterday and the rain today brought in nearly and inch). The shelter belt trees are still green, despite the arrival of fall. The air is heavy with moisture, but also cool. I am thankful I decided to wear an outer sweater.
Walk, walk, walk. Now we turn back, into the sun. Photos are impossible from this angle, but I have enough. At the road, we turn and cross the tracks again, heading towards the van. I have not had my fill of the Sunday outing in the country, so I drive further out, looking at the multitude of hay bales scattered across the countryside.
As always, hawks hunt in the newly harvested fields and small birds sit expectantly on the fence posts. I drive up to an eerie lake surrounded by dead tree trunks and find a White Egret and Great Blue Heron looking for dinner. I will miss them this winter.
I will also miss the McTwist, where I stop for supper on the way home–a chocolate ice-cream cone. They will close soon when the weather turns cold. Last year in Wyoming, we had snow in early September. Rare, but not impossible. Does North Dakota get September snow? If so, that will be the end of McTwist, along with the remaining tomato plants. I know that every year is different on the prairies, and I look forward to whatever this season brings.
Finally home, the sun sets and I cuddle up and read. Sunday-which begins early thanks to my work–winds down.
Notes on the Soo Line Railroad: I never heard of the Soo Line, not that I am an expert on trains. I checked Wikipedia and discovered that the Soo is a regional train line and a subsidiary of the Canadian Pacific Railroad, which operates the routes shown below. The train run begins at Portal, ND, on the Canadian border. Older folks remember when the Soo line had passenger trains–now the trains seem to pick-up the harvest in the fall. A train sits on the tracks now, but only a few will pass through during the winter.
