Palindrome: Traversing Fields for Planting.

The Fields

Imena unpacked her things and headed over to her mother's home to prepare for the celebration in the evening. Everyone had been working all day. There were wonderful dishes made from sweet potatoes and onions. And rice that was peppered with dried fruit and nuts. The harvest was completed and the fields were still and silent but you could smell the overturned earth, and the churning of the plant's roots. Each family's fields had been planted as part of a circular pattern that fanned out around a communal space for all co-op farmers. It was an area for events such as the celebration tonight, or for rest and sharing meals during planting and harvesting.

The moon was full and heavy and sat close to the horizon. Tonight was the celebration for their successful harvest and the sharing of profits. There would be dancing and music.

Her mother was sitting at the table when Imena entered the room, looking over something on the table. It appeared to be a ledger of sorts. Her mother was so engrossed in it she barely heard Imena enter, and had forgotten to turn on a light, making reading nearly impossible.

"What is it?" Imena asked.

Her mother jumped from the unanticipated voice. "I am not sure", she answered.

"Maybe it is because this year the crops produced more but the numbers from each field are very different. It does not make sense."

Imena sat down and looked over the numbers. They did seem to vary a lot. Some family's fields produced 1/3 of a neighboring plot. Usually they were fairly consistent.

"It's an interesting thing, but what does it matter?"

"I don't really know," her mother said, with her eyes cast down. "But I think it does matter."

"Well let's think about it tomorrow. After the celebration." Imena stood up.

"Yes, of course." Her mother smiled.

"Yes of course," Imena mirrored, laughing and putting her arm around her mother's shoulders.

But the next morning Imena rose early, thinking about the variations in the field's production. As she made her tea she thought of what they needed to do, or if they should just ignore it. The only reason she thought it might matter was if certain families were struggling and needed extra help. But when she asked her mother about this it seemed clear that there were no visible signs of struggle during the season for any of the families. But to have to give one family so much more than another during profit sharing seemed undesirable.

No, she thought, "we have to figure out what is going on."

Imena sent out a call for all the farmers to meet at the center to discuss it. She set the time for later that evening. Arith, one of the men who had known Imena's father, built a huge fire to keep away any distraction from cool winds. Everyone arrived on time, happy from the previous evening's celebration. She let her mother tell them of the findings in the ledger, and asked if anyone was aware of why this might be the case? At first everyone was silent. But then, a tall, young woman, stood up.

"Our field was not productive this year", she said. "And we do not know why".

Everyone knew her and had seen how hard she worked and how successful their field had been last season. So the group fell silent, wanting to understand what had led to this bad year.

People started asking questions, "Did you change something? Did you forget to fertilize? Did you plant too close to the surface so the wind carried away the seeds?"

The answer was "no". But many of the plants did not survive and those that did were weaker and produced less seeds. Then another older woman stood and told the same story and another, and another. It became clear, that many families had experienced a similar loss but had been reluctant to share this change with their neighbors.