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The changing autumn scene on the farm
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It's mid-September, technically still summer. Because it's when the school year begins, it seems that Labor Day marks the end of summer.

Autumn actually begins with the autumnal equinox; the instant the sun crosses the equator to the southern hemisphere -this year, at exactly 4:05 a.m. CDT, Sept. 23. The harvest moon, the full moon nearest the autumnal equinox, has already reached its zenith on Sept. 12.

In addition to the days getting shorter and the evenings cooler, the sun, setting directly west instead of northwest, is squarely in your face as you drive west during late afternoon.

I remember as a kid on the farm when there would be a day in August, after the last oat bundle was run through the threshing machine, the light appeared softer and dimmer, prematurely it seemed, heralding the inexorable onset of Autumn.

The changing path of the sun, the shorter days, cooler nights, and changing color of the leaves remain as ever. But farming practices have changed dramatically over the years, permanently changing the rural landscape from that we once knew.

An iconic symbol of a Midwest farm is the traditional dairy barn with adjacent silo that reaches slightly higher than the top of the barn roof. While some of these still exist, the modern dairy farm is typified by a cluster of huge silos - the result of economics and changing technology.

Older silos seldom exceeded f40 feet in height and 14 feet in diameter. Size was limited by two factors: capacity of the machines to fill the silo and physical efficiency of manually unloading it during winter.

Years ago, the silo was filled by a simple belt-driven machine called a silo filler, powered by a tractor pulley. It contained a heavy flywheel with knives to cut the corn, and a fan that blew the silage through a pipe to the top of the silo.

The corn was cut and tied into bundles in the field by a corn binder. The heavy green bundles were loaded, by hand of course, onto a wagon that was towed to the silo filler. The bundles were fed into the silo filler, by hand of course, and a track fed the bundles into the knives and fan. Each stalk of corn, that is, each bundle of the heavy stuff, was handled twice by hand, once to load it onto the wagon, and again to unload it. It was back-breaking labor.

A group of farmers would generally band together to form a silo-filling ring, similar to the old threshing rings. For some reason, the silo-filling rings never generated the same lore and nostalgia as the old threshing rings.

Because the machine both cut and blew the silage in one operation, the physics of the operation limited the height of the silos to not much more than 40 feet.

The silo was unloaded in winter by hand. Every day the farmer had to climb the silo through an inside chute, and with a fork throw the silage down the chute to the silage room. Fourteen feet was about as far across the silo that one could efficiently throw a fork full of silage, so thus was limited the diameter of the silo.

So, in addition to handling the corn twice by hand to get it into the silo, silage was handled an additional three more times by hand; down the chute, then into the silage cart, and finally to the feed alley to individual cows.

All this was radically changed by the advent of the forage harvester and the automatic silo unloader. The forage harvester both cuts and chops the corn in the field, and blows it into a large wagon. The wagon is towed to the silo and mechanically unloaded into a blower that blows the chopped corn up through a pipe to the top of the silo.

Because the corn is already chopped, the blower, especially with the aid of more powerful tractors, can handle greater heights. And because the newer silos are unloaded mechanically, the diameter, once limited by a man's ability to efficiently throw silage across the diameter of the silo to the chute, is no longer constrained to 14 feet.

There are other methods now used instead of the traditional silo. These include the trench silo where silage is packed into a trench dug in the ground. A similar method is to pile the silage into huge piles, pack it down, and cover it with a giant tarp, often held down by old tires. A newer method is to use a special machine to pack it into plastic covered tubes and stored on the ground.

The economies of scale that have driven dairy and livestock operations to "fewer and larger" have rendered small silos obsolete. In addition, the practice of keeping cows on the feedlot all summer instead of pasturing requires large feed storage capacity. The combination of technological change, larger farms, and the practice of year-round feeding result in clusters of huge silos on remaining dairy farms.

So it is that farm scenery has changed. Instead of the countryside dotted with the traditional dairy barn with adjacent silo, and small herds of cows grazing till late autumn, we have large farms with clusters of silos. When driving around the countryside, it is rare to see a herd of cows grazing in the pasture.

There are still some traditional dairy barns, with small silos. But most of them are unused. The 40- by 14-foot silo on the home farm was demolished several years ago as it was beginning to crumble and become a potential safety hazard.

The traditional dairy barn with its single adjacent silo has all but disappeared from the farm scene. But it remains an iconic symbol of the rural Midwest that we once knew.

Next week: Another vanished iconic symbol of rural autumn.

- John Waelti's column appears every Friday in the Times. He can be reached at jjwaelti@tds.net.