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And the start of plowing: early in the morning, I love to start early in the morning---slipping the halter in her mouth and tightening the leather harness in place---a light snap of the reins against her rump to get her going---then she leads me out to the field, I follow close behind and murmur quietly to her to keep her focused on the day’s hard, sweaty work ahead of us, the exhaustion melding us two into one.

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The more unyielding the wet, bushy ground, the deeper the hard, unrelenting plow plunges, splitting the last straining roots, which surrender and unfold to release the moist fragrance of a newly violated furrow.

Edited by tvashtarkatena

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