Farmer’s Field: Keep Planting

by Ron Rabou

As a 52-year resident of Wyoming, I guess the longing for warmer temperatures, less wind and more time to spend outdoors without a parka are some things that will never go away for me.  

As winter begins to turn into spring, if you can actually call it that, there seems to always be a renewed sense of enthusiasm and anticipation of what the warmer months might bring.  

In the winter months, as I gaze through my office window watching the snow – or in the case of this past winter, dust – blow across the fields, I can envision green grass, foliage on the trees and the smell of cool, crisp evening air.  

My senses are alert and seem completely real as my mind drifts to the pleasantries the warmer months will bring.  

Unfortunately, Wyoming springs always seem to arrive with a great deal of hesitation.  Their bipolar attitudes are much unlike other parts of the country, where pleasant springs gradually invite beautiful flowers, lush shades of green and warmer days and nights.  

The weather in the Cowboy State, in typical fashion, marches to the beat of its own drum, completely unaffected by what most of us would prefer to imagine for the ideal climate.  

Here, the mood swings are real, and sometimes they can be just downright rude. A warm day brings our spirits up, only to be sabotaged by scathing winds usually followed by either more wind, cold temperatures or an occasional blizzard.  

The apple blossoms on the nearby tree one day go from showing their beauty and their potential for the best apple crop in years, to sticking to the side of the house, frozen, the next. 

There’s always next year, we say.  

As a farmer, I’ve come to fully understand the importance of such a mindset, and I’d venture to say as a Wyoming farmer especially, this statement might be truer than if I did what I do somewhere else.  

Rarely, are conditions just right here in eastern Laramie County. This year began with horrendously dry conditions. In fact, it was so dry, even the hearty winter wheat crop began to die in early May. This is if the wheat crop planted last fall, even came up at all.  

Only a few short days before most all hope was gone, the great rains of 2025 began to fall. But, as chance would have it, the first big rain brought with it one of the largest hailstorms I have ever seen.  

The growing crops were seemingly destroyed in a matter of minutes.

For our wheat crop, nearly 14 months of hard work, stress, expense and hope were gone in the blink of an eye.  

There’s always next year, I thought.

Suddenly, in what appeared to be one of the swiftest 180s of all time, the drought disappeared and the rains kept falling – some with such volume and ferocity our freshly planted crops were washed away or buried or both.  

So, we went back to the drawing board and repeated the preparation and planting process, sometimes as many as three times over More expense, more time, more frustration.  

Truth be told, we are still working through it all, and it will be some time yet before this long planting season will come to an end. 

Some of the crops are finally showing potential, while undoubtedly, others have suffered.  Some will pull though, others will struggle. Yet through it all, I find myself unwilling to curse the rain. I’ll take it any day over dry conditions.  

Through all of the craziness this season has brought, I reminded myself of a conversation I had with a friend as we faced the reality of our drought-stricken lands early in the season.  

My comment to him was we were moving forward regardless of what may or may not happen with the weather.  

“We’ve got to plant,” I said. “The only sure way to not get a crop is to not plant.”  

So there we were, sowing the seeds of multiple crops while hoping and praying for results.  

It’s a form of action, and in my opinion, I believe this is what God asks us to do. Nothing will grow, no vine will bear fruit, unless we act. 

My profession is really no different than what all of us should be doing each day of our lives. 

We should plant. We should plant seeds of hope and encouragement in those who need it; seeds of love and understanding in those who we might be frustrated with; seeds of inspiration in those who may be down on their luck; seeds of happiness, joy and positivity in those who need a shining light and seeds of grace in those whom we don’t agree or understand.  

And when you plant, you’ll discover, as I have, no matter what life throws at you and no matter how torrential the downpours, nothing will grow until you plant, even if you must replant over and over again.

The wheat that got the early hail – thanks to lots of rain and sunshine – now shows incredible promise in the fruit it will bear at harvest, and I have no doubt the other struggling crops will do the same.  

It’s all the proof we need. 

It’s not up to us to dictate the outcome, the process or the unforeseen circumstances. It’s up to us to plant. Keep farming, everyone. The seed you plant just might be the one the world needs.