My neighbor's field has been mistaken as a lake.  Initially, there were 6 black and white birds I thought were loons.  Now the number has multiplied, I've realized they can't be loons, but are some sort of black and white duck.  You can't blame the ducks for thinking this field is actually a lake.  Just this week the trails in Voyageur's National Park in northeast Minnesota were closed for snowmobiles.  You could have gone snowmobiling last weekend across the lakes!  Most lakes are still covered in ice, and the only open water is in fields, or ditches.  

Seeing the birds reminded my of my favorite wet field story from a Roseau County, MN farmer.  It happened a few years ago, but I still laugh when I picture him out in the field trying to help a stranded loon.  Loons are the Minnesota state bird, and you can't help but get a little shiver whenever you hear their call.   I think all Minnesotans are a little protective of them.  

This farmer had a field full of water, and a loon decided to stop by.  As the water began the recede, the loon stayed put, until finally, the water was all gone, but the loon remained.   Each day this farmer would go on his 4-wheeler, trying to scare away the loon, but the bird just stood there and nipped at the tires.  This went on for a few days, until the farmer found out that loons cannot fly unless they take off from water.  If you leave a loon on dry land, it will be stuck.  Their feet are too far back on their body, and they are not able to move very well on dry land.  They are meant to be in water. 

So this farmer went back into the field on his 4-wheeler, and threw his jacket over the loon.  He hopped back on the 4-wheeler, with the loon struggling against him, and drove to the ditch, which was still full of water.  He dropped the loon into the ditch full of water, and without even looking back, the loon took off into the air. 

I still laugh picturing this farmer on his 4-wheeler trying to rescue the loon.  They're not small birds, but farmers are the original environmentalists, and this farmer couldn't bear to watch the animal struggle.  

I hope the water recedes soon, and the birds are replaced with crops.  Just this week we had our first 40 degree day since last November (6 months, and nothing over 40 degrees!!!), and this weekend it may even hit 60 degrees.  In Minnesota terms, that means it's time to bring out the swimsuit.  

Yesterday I asked people to fill in the blink:  In winter wheat country it is said "Plant in the dust, your bins will bust."  In spring wheat country we could say "Plant in the snow...

1.  Your cheeks will glow
2.  into debt you'll go
3.  nothing will grow
4.  hope they'll grow
5.  your farm will go

Even if you're not in spring wheat country, wet weather is keeping most farmers out of the fields.  Moisture is good news to relieve the drought, but early planting is a critical yield factor for corn, spring wheat, and sugarbeets. 

At least we're all in this together.  Last fall we had a horrible sugarbeet harvest.  In a normal year, harvest begins October 1, and ideally lasts for 2 weeks, maybe 3.  Last year we attempted to harvest all the way up to Thanksgiving, and then we still left sugarbeets in the field.  We found out a sugarbeet harvester can't tell the difference between a sugarbeet, and a frozen mud chunk.  

But last fall it was a relatively small area that could not harvest.  It was a tough harvest for nearly all sugarbeet farmers in the Red River Valley, but it was an impossible harvest for just a few of us in the Northern RRV.  It was a very isolating experience.  

This spring we are all in the same boat, and there is a sense of safety in numbers.  Delayed plantings aren't just my problem, they are your problem too.  Minnesota still has widespread snow (some schools were canceled today, April 19!) and North Dakota is digging out from a record April snowfall.  Corn Belt farmers are waiting for sunshine after heavy, heavy rains and even flooding.  This week's crop progress report should be renamed the "Lack of Progress Report."

Many Northern Plains farmers are already changing their corn acres.  Most of us are not "corn farmers" but "farmers who grow corn" (we don't have dryers or a corn header, have limited storage, and not enough hopper bottom trailers) so don't blame us for being a little nervous.  We're still dipping our toe in the corn acres, nervous about how to handle the bushels, dry them, store them, and when to harvest.  The snow is still deep, the forecast is cold, and there is no imminent sign of when planting will begin.  It is easier to turn back to the safety of wheat, and maybe barley.

We took a little drive last night to see if there are any signs of life in the fields.  I did manage to find a group of swans 2 miles east of me.  I see geese and ducks all the time, but swans are unusual.  They were a little camera shy, but it made me think that maybe this Ugly Duckling of a spring may have a beautiful ending.  When I showed my 10 year old the picture, she said "Mom, where did you find a field with dirt?"  Come on you Ugly Duckling Planting season, surprise me and become a beautiful swan in a few months.  

It is April 17, and it is snowing.  I know for most people that is depressing, but for farmers, those falling snowflakes mean falling profits as well.  I am trying to remain optimistic, but the odds of a good wheat, corn and sugarbeet crop decline with every day our equipment sits in our yard.

I keep reminding myself that spring weather is just ONE determinant of final yield, not the only determinant.  Last year we had very dry conditions, but with early planting and great temperatures, the crop was much better than expected.  Maybe we can be lucky two years in a row.

So to my other fellow farmers in the Northern Plains, keep your chin up, and remain optimistic.  I have decided to stop watching the USDA Crop Progress reports because that will just add to my frustration.  Perhaps this late planting will help give prices a bit of a boost, and I can make some 2013 sales, and wrap up my remaining 2012 sales.  There is still plenty of work to be done, even if it isn't fieldwork.