HOT SUMMER DAY! COLD DRINK OF WATER FROM A WINDMILL!

It was the summer of 1948. The place was near Ranchvale, New  Mexico. I was driving a big CASE "Wheatland" tractor pulling a 22 1/2 foot One-Way plow. (I would much rather have been in town, at the swimming pool, catching rays with most of the other teen-agers.) But here I was, having risen at first light, which at that time of year was about 4:30 a.m.

I had been plowing since 6:00 a.m. It was 95 degrees, hot, no-breeze; the dust, and there was plenty of it, was rising so slowly, straight up, and simply hanging in the air around the tractor---wait, the tractor's ever-so-little-bit of movement at 3 1/2 mph was creating a tiny bit of suction as I crept along.

I couldn't outrun or get away from this dust!  A dirty job--yes, but someone had to do it. But why me?

My blue chambray work shirt (yes, THEN, they were WORKSHIRTS), was completely faded on the shoulders and back. I felt like I was cooking back there. I was totally covered with dust on the outside, and likely inside also.  Breathing was difficult.

The sky had this brassy look, perhaps akin to the sky in "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner." It was not what I'd call a "friendly sky"-- one with all those big fluffy neat clouds around.

This was hot, boring work. It's a wonder I'm still here today, for I was very prone, as you can imagine, to getting sleepy. In fact, I would sometimes just doze off for a few seconds--long enough for my right wheels to get out of the rut, and to you non-plowers, that meant that I was leaving a gap maybe 75 feet long, shaped like a long triangle, of unplowed land--staring my meticulous-plower-dad right in the face when he came back. Thus I would make a sharp left turn, circle around, (think of it as rewinding) and come back into my rut and plow out the triangle of whitish soil which I had left.

The only problem I had now, was to make several laps around the land and plow out my circle, thus covering up my error, and avoiding a chewing-out from my dad. So I did that...

Tired and bored, dirty and sleepy, hot and dry...that was I. But wait!!! What is that in the sky out west toward Melrose!!?? Clouds are starting to build up and come in my direction! Maybe some rain... and I can quit and go home! I watch and watch and YES, they are coming east! My suffering may be alleviated! They are building...building...building. It is a storm cloud--a big one!

After a couple of hours it arrives! Beautiful thunderheads. Big ones. the whole sky is getting dark. The wind is getting strong. Things are cooling off! Oh joy!  THE WINDMILL DOWN AT THE BARN IS TURNING FAST! If I were closer I could hear that wonderful "clang-clang" that windmills make. The best water you can imagine is being brought up from 282 feet down, on a sucker-rod.

Uh-oh, some lightning. My signal to get out of the field. I head for the windmill. I get out of the old pickup, run up to the mill, bend down and turn the faucet on...cold water is gushing out. I take off my old beat up straw hat, porous though it is, fill it with water and just pour it over my head and shoulders; yes, I get wet!!! Who cares?! I do it again. Then I scoop the water into my hands and drink it, and drink some more. Then I wash my face with that cold water; and take the old muddy water bag (from off the tractor) clean it off and fill it with fresh,cold water.

It is now raining down pretty good, and shucks--you know, my plowing is over for the day!  Well, nothing left to do but head into Clovis, get a shower, and maybe go down to the old Lyceum Theater for a movie with the gang.

I leave, wet and cool, and with another happy memory of our old windmill,  my favorite thing.

                             "Leaning Windmill and Painted Sky", by Mil

by Mil

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