PRESSED BETWEEN THE PAGES
DeAnn (Wolkow) Kruempel, Columnist
Adjusting the Sails
“The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails” –William Arthur Ward
I do not like the wind. It sucks moisture out of my garden. It beats baby pepper plants to shreds. In fall it steals the lovely colors from the trees. In winter it piles three-foot drifts in front of my garage. When the needle on the gas gauge in my car dips like a dolphin, I am certainly bucking the wind. At least five times a year I ask fellow wind-blasters the same question, “Do we have more wind than we used to?” Occasionally, a tempest hits me and blows me over, and I suddenly realize I have asked that same question for the last 30 years!
Growing up on the farm, I do not remember our parents ever complaining about the wind.
Pressed between the pages of my mind is an unusually hot spring day when the wind mercilessly mangled a whole field of tender corn shoots. Dad had reason to complain; the field had to be replanted. But he didn’t. Delmer recalls squalls at Big Stone Lake that ruined fishing trips. Only Jesus could be out in a boat amid whitecaps and breakers.
But our folks did not curse the wind. Most days, the South Dakota breezes were farmers’ friends. We counted on the wind to turn the wheel on the windmill that pumped water for the livestock. Sometimes thirsty cows would drain the old wooden tank down quickly, but the trusty wind kept the wheel turning to replenish the water.
During hay harvest, moving air dried the alfalfa to bale-ability. (Another memory pressed between the pages of my mind just wafted out: one year the wind blew the windrows into wild mazes. Dad simply raked it again.)
“Perfect day for drying clothes!” Mom would announce on blustery Mondays as she clamped a white sheet to the line with a clothespin. Was it the wind that made the clothes smell like heaven?
Our parents saw the good in the wind. Was it because they had grown up during the thirties when wind blew dust into drifts like black snow? Or, in their years of acquired wisdom, did they appreciate Mother Nature’s gifts more because of the rough times? Had those hard times taught them to make the best of what they were given and carry on?
As often happens when I recall memories of my parents, I am humbled by their faith, strength, tenacity, and their realistic outlook on life. Obviously, I have lessons to re-learn. I need to adjust my sails.
Today is warm and humid. But there is a light, gentle breeze—a zephyr. It will feel good as I mow and pull weeds. It will keep away the flies and mosquitoes. Maybe it will bring some rain! Likely, Mr. William Henry Ward knew about wind!
DeAnn Kruempel grew up on a farm near De Smet, SD, the sixth child of Harrison and Mabel Wolkow. She attended school at Erwin and De Smet and has lived in Benedict, ND, Toeterville, Akron, Missouri Valley and Logan, IA. The author worked in school and public libraries for more than 30 years. Her column has run in a growing number of Midwest newspapers for five years.
Each year the author has published the stories into a book. She has also written a historical fiction series, “Promises to Keep.” Her ten books are available on Amazon. Signed copies may be purchased at the Harrison County Welcome Center. Contact Kruempel at deannkruempelauthor@gmail.com
