I'm forever watchful.

I've been watching vast rolling fields being plowed on the outskirts of Carbonia in Sardinia. Acres and acres. With tractors on tank-like tracks. I haven't seen crops on these fields in my two years here. Though I've seen sheep and goats grazing. On the natural growth, I presume. And I'm thinking that maybe the plowing was done just to encourage the growth of whatever comes. Naturally. With no need to plant seeds. The dirt is brown. And much of it has been turned over into big clumps. Difficult to walk on. I often cut across the edges of the fields. Seems that I'm welcomed. I wave to the drivers of the tractors. They wave back. I might ordinarily ask them to stop. For a conversation. But I'm assuming that they speak only Italian. And I speak English. But I'm forever watchful. I'll figure out what's going on. By observing. --Jim Broede