Our son stopped by on Saturday and I told him, “Great news! The pump started.” He looked a little puzzled, but said, “That is great news...I guess.” “Hey, trust me, you would have gotten a call if it hadn’t.” South of our farm place is a little divot in the field. I’ve been struggling with it for forty years or more. When I started farming, it was just a soggy spot that would occasionally get soggier. I fired up a gas operated floating pump when we got heavy rain and that was enough to save the crop. Over the years, what with climate change, it got wetter and wetter. We dug ditches, put in tile, and finally ran a power line to it and installed a giant electric pump that ran automatically, more or less. Each individual move made sense, but now that I don’t farm any more, I watch in the spring and see that every year it’s a bother. The wetland across a small berm from the soggy divot is now deep enough that the plat books call it “Olson Lake” and I'm throwing in the towel. It feels like I keep pumping the same water over and over. If you’ve ever been to New Orleans and watched a ship sailing by on the other side of the levee, about ten feet over your head, you’ll understand my situation. Next year I’m going to start the process of restoring the wetland, which means I won’t need the pump.
A story with a nice ending.
Joe