attend to what most needs mending
Farmers gathered at the tavern to complain to one another of the sod, the price of wheat, the weather. The agent sent by the government advised them on seed selection. Crop rotation. High tech integration. And, in the process, missed the point.
These are descendants of generations honed on the ways of nature. They are there for one another. Before the storm. To help harvest. To lay one another to rest. There to commiserate about a metal beast, whose break-down brings them into town.
Any one of them can fix a fan belt. Only together can they share time out from wrestling with the force of nature. The agent never understood attending as tending or how co-misery loves company. The agriculture agent knew soil, but the farmers know their land.
