John’s Climate Story
Tyrone, PA 16686
How are you sensing climate change?
“Hey! I want to go first!” my cousin Will called, running the rest of the way up the bank.
“Too bad. I got here first.” I said, one foot on the first branch of the tree, ready to start climbing.
“John, you always get to go first.” Hannah called sweeping her boots through the leaves making as much noise as she could.
“Yeah, but you guys can’t ever reach the top anyways”
During the end of summer and the beginning of fall, the stream bed normally dries out, making a great path to walk along. We have a big tree the we always end up at, climbing to the top and arguing over who gets to go first and therefore go the highest. I almost aways end up winning, and though my cousins don’t like it, they eventually accept it every time. The first time I ever climbed that tree, I had two impressions. The first was the obvious one, “Wow this view is amazing!” But the second one is the one that stands out the most in my mind. Trash. From up on that tree, I had a better view of the area next to the barn than I normally do. I could see the ag-bag, filled with the silage from last years harvest, almost empty as a new one would be made next week. It was then that I realized something. All the pieces of black and white plastic that I had seen, sticking out of the ground at the top of the hill, or caught in some thistle had come from this source. Every ag-bag is made of a huge tube of plastic, filled with the chopped up corn from the fields. It is the easiest way for my grandfather to store the food for his cows, but it also comes with a cost. Every year, two new tubes are made, and no matter how hard he tries to keep it contained, some will always get out. Such is the price of convenience. Cheaper costs and easy access lead to something that will end up harming you in the long run, lingering on the farm years after it is used.
Over the course of the fall, we spend hours in that tree, sharing our thoughts on school, sports, and life. As we sit, perched on our branches, looking down on the world below, we get a special feeling, one of connection with the land is allowing us to play in its presence. Every time we pull up to that little house, I get a little it of excitement. I am freed from my worries and instead am filled with adventure, waiting to see what else I can discover at my second home.
How do these changes make you feel?
This makes me concerned about what it is like on larger farms with greater demand.
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