A busload of Spanish farmers visited our farm today.
They were on a tight schedule and a brief visit complicated by most not speaking much English and my Spanish being rusty.
But, with the help of an interpreter, my farmer and I were able to tell some of our story and learn a little of theirs.
While we didn’t understand every word of what was said, it didn’t matter because in our hearts we were speaking the language of farming and our shared passion didn’t need to be translated.
Today I’m grateful for the passion for the land and farming which transcend national boundaries and language differences.