“So…” Levi starts, reaching forward to tap the screen. “This is the prescription map for this field.”
Colours spread across the map of the field in uneven patches, and I look over it, trying to make sense of the mess of layered blocks and numbers.
“This darker strip,” he continues, pointing to the section along the backstretch, “is heavier soil, which holds moisture longer, so the planter is going to ease off and plant less there. And this lighter section on higher ground drains faster, so it will plant more.”
He pauses and glances at me, and I nod, shifting my gaze over the field. I already know how the soil behaves out here. I don’t need a computer for that…
“So when you cross from one zone into the next,” he says, “the monitor reads the map and shifts the rate automatically. You’ll see the target change on the display as you move. You don’t have to touch anything. It adjusts on its own.”
My brow creases as I look at the backstretch of the field in the distance and my breaths come quicker. “How does it know…”
“It’s all built off the soil tests and last year’s yield,” he says. “We use that information to divide the field into zones based on how it actually performed. Once that map’s loaded, the planter’s GPS always knows where it is within those zones. So when youcross from one into another, it automatically changes the seed rate to match what that section’s set for.” He taps the screen again, and thin lines appear over everything else. “You can still see how it’ll respond, even though we don’t have the planter hooked up. When we cross zones, you’ll see the rate change here.”
My eyes move across the screen, trying to take in the field I thought I knew, but is now split into small sections and labelled with colours.
I know this field, and I’m used to seeing maps of all of them on the displays… but not like this.
This is different.
Too different.
I swallow and shift in my seat, letting out a slow breath as I lower my hand and press it against the inside of the tractor beside me, feeling the vibration of the engine through my palm. The rumble is solid and predictable, and something I can understand.
Levi doesn’t continue, so I shift my eyes to him again to see him watching me. But he just flicks his gaze back to the screen and taps to zoom into a section of the field with a single, straight line.
“The same one you’ve always used to keep you straight and show where you’ve been.” He looks at me again. “You’re still the one running it. This system doesn’t change that. All this does is handle the transitions. It takes care of the adjustments and the hard stuff, so you don’t have to.”
I bite the inside of my cheek as I’m suddenly overcome with so much emotion, I feel like I’m going to burst out crying right here. And I don’t know why.
Or maybe I do.
Maybe it’s because this all feels so familiar. Because I notice the way he’s teaching me like he always used to. He never mademe feel like an idiot, and he had more patience for me than I deserved. And now, after everything… he’s still doing it.
I thought I’d be pissed about it. But I’m not. I appreciate it. And even though part of my brain is trying so hard to fight it, I’m thankful he’s taking the time to do this for me.
Tears blur my vision, and I quickly turn my head to look out the side window so he doesn’t see.
“You ok?” Levi asks gently.
I just nod and try to blink back the tears, but they won’t go away. They just keep building and threatening to spill over.
Levi’s hand lands on my shoulder, and I close my eyes as a tear finally breaks free and rolls down my cheek.
That touch alone feels like it just undid so much inside me, and I don’t even know what it is.
So I turn to face him and let him see it.
His gaze follows the path the tear left on my skin, and he nods softly. “A lot has changed.”
I nod, unable to find any words.
“And a lot hasn’t,” he says.
I nod again, and I notice he hasn’t removed his hand from my shoulder.
I hope he doesn’t.
My eyes stay locked on his as I take in all the details of his eyes, from the dark ring around the brown, and the honey-coloured flecks near the centre. My eyes start to dry, and my breathing evens out as I look into them, and I let this comfortable feeling settle inside me. I always thought his eyes were beautiful. Something about them always made me want to study every movement, fleck, and shift in colour. And now, sitting this close to him again… they might be more beautiful than they were before.
