Springtime on the farm; what a glorious, chaotic, and magical season.
I’ve always been a faithful lover of spring. It carries so much promise: new beginnings, fresh starts, and a belief that what we plant, tend, and nurture through the summer will reward us with a bounty come fall. Although it’s easy to get bogged down in the sheer workload that inevitably arrives with it, we still need to stop and soak it all in; the long days, the warmth of a sun we haven’t seen enough of for months, and the simple joy of the changing seasons.
Between calving, seeding, garden planting, grass mowing, and yard cleanup, it can feel a little overwhelming. But if you’re anything like me, you thrive on it. You revel in being outdoors, building new garden beds, buying another milk cow, attending every branding, and somehow convincing yourself that you definitely need more chicks and ducks. It’s always fall and winter me who regrets springtime me’s ambitions. Those fun summer chores somehow lose all their whimsy when it’s thirty below and chores have to be done in the dark.
The changing of the seasons means so much more to a farmer than simply turning a calendar page—it dictates an entirely different way of life. It’s something I’ve inherently known my whole life, but I’ve never really stopped to think about how differently much of the population experiences the year.
Many people don’t realize that winter can be a season of rest. A time to slow down a little, enjoy the earlier evenings, and tackle those indoor projects that patiently waited while the rest of life carried on. Things like bookwork, paperwork, and all the little jobs that never seem urgent enough during the busy months.
That works just fine until cabin fever sets in around mid-February and you start watching every patch of melting snow like it’s a major event. Then spring finally arrives and you hit the ground running, barely giving that housework a second glance as you immerse yourself in all the outdoor glory.
After the sprint of spring come the dog days of summer—long, hot, and busy. While most people picture lazy days at the beach or by the pool, you’re more likely to find a farmer sitting on a piece of equipment somewhere. Some of my best tans as a young girl came from open-air raking on the old Massey. The only disappointing part was discovering that half of it washed off at the end of the day. A Special Areas summer usually has two common themes: dirt and bugs.
By late summer, the evenings begin to cool, the crops start to turn, and harvest looms on the horizon. It’s usually about this time that you realize all those precious spring initiatives are coming home to roost. The garden is completely overgrown, the bounty will go to waste if you don’t deal with it soon, and all those adorable baby animals have now reached adolescence and transformed into one thing: more mouths to feed.
Just like the seasons on the farm, we all move through seasons in life.
Our once-little kids grow up and change. They no longer spend their summers running through sprinklers or paddling around in a slough. We’re not roasting wieners over the fire every night and calling it supper anymore. Now they pack their own lunches and head off to summer jobs.
It’s strange how quickly it all happens.
If we don’t take a few moments to soak it in, snap a few pictures, and truly be present, it’s gone before we know it. The seasons change, the years pass, and life keeps moving whether we’re ready for it or not.
That’s the nature of the beast, I suppose.
Everything is constantly changing. The farm teaches us that lesson year after year. And maybe that’s why spring feels so special—it reminds us that every season, whether in the field or in our lives, is worth appreciating while we’re in it.
We all move through seasons—raising young families, building careers and businesses, preparing for retirement, and eventually thinking about the legacy we’ll leave behind. The challenge is that while we can usually see the changing seasons on the farm coming, life’s changes don’t always give us the same warning.
That’s where planning comes in.
Life insurance isn’t really about death; it’s about protecting the people and dreams you’ve worked so hard to build during every season of life. It’s about making sure that if the unexpected happens, your family, your farm, your business, and your future plans can continue moving forward.
Just like planting a crop, the best time to put a plan in place is before you need it. We can’t control the weather, the markets, or every twist and turn life throws our way, but we can prepare for them.
After all, every farmer understands the value of planning ahead. Why should protecting our families be any different?
