Ten years ago, our family moved from a crowded Philadelphia suburb to the rural area surrounding Bloomsburg University; this is in the northeastern corner of the state. We aren't crowded anymore. We live on ten acres of land, our house was built around 1850, and we have a huge red barn. Also, a creek runs along one edge of the property and a rainbow trout was spotted swimming there. One of my favorite Gordon Lightfoot songs is "Rainbow Trout" so knowing that a real one lived in the creek meant a lot to me. It was a sign from the other world.

We have few neighbors; nobody lives next door to us. However, the neighbors we do have, we like. This blog entry is devoted to Jan and Sandy, who operate a dairy farm at the end of our road, Austin Trail.

When we first came here and we passed Jan's farm a lot, my husband always said: Jan's cows are the cleanest, prettiest cows I've ever seen. I'll bet Jan and Sandy give those cows a bath every day. I was a city kid and I lived in a suburb for 25+ years so I didn't make any distinctions: cows were cows. But I kept looking at Jan's cows, and I saw that their cows' skins were glossy, satiny, brilliant. They did not stand in mud half way up their legs. I had a job then, working on the night shift in a group home for mentally "challenged" adults, and as I drove along the country roads in the mornings to get home, I would look at all the farms. I saw a lot of cows and my husband was right; these cows were filthy. They stood in mud all day. Did the cleanliness of the cows affect their milk? Jan and Sandy certainly believed so.

Jan and her partner Sandy I find intimidating, especially in the spring and summer. With competence they operate huge machines such as manure spreaders, and sit, perched, way up top in the little cab where only one person can fit. Sometimes Jan squeezes her grandson and the dog into the cab with her. Jan's skin is polished tan and her arms are lean and muscled. To think of Jan or her partner Sandy confined to an office or a classroom is dismal, not real. They are goddesses of nature who watch over Austin Trail