The Being Place

Century farms.  Marriage vows. Each of them bound by bands of nothing (1)00. Both of them held together by the daily decision to stay in one place, no matter what.

For the Century Farms, the land is more powerful than the individuals trying to submit it to their wills, as the land will never be completely tamed by the stewardship of those owning it.  The land must possess the farmers, as the land has remained, but the people toiling on it have disappeared over time. And even if their bodies aren’t buried on the land, their sweat mixed in with blood and love have been tilled into the sweet, black earth, and they will either poison or fortify the crops, based on the farmer’s skill and life’s luck.

In Iowa, a Century Farm cannot be a plot of garden like in the neighbor’s backyard.  Instead, a Century Farm must dramatically encompass a chunk…

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