Mid-afternoon in mid-October, the combine rolling down the road turns in our lane. Wagons pull in just behind. The sound of harvest begins in our fields.

This year, the renter planted beans in fields that used to be pasture, hay, and grain. We do less field crops now, so they have the work, but we watch and worry for them.

We didn't worry in the spring. What snow pack we had melted early, and the weather made planting a straightforward job.

Worry set in with June's lack of rain. We measured half an inch a week that month, and I know we were fortunate in our part of Chatsworth Township. Because of the dryness in the garden, the second plantings of lettuce and spinach seeds did not sprout. Peas matured quickly, and the yellow beans came along right after. We enjoyed these fresh vegetables and kept the first planting of leafy greens going as long as we could.

Worry strengthened in July when there was nothing but a trace of moisture falling. The soil of the garden turned to dust. Zuccini and pumpkin leaves wilted each day.

The first cutting of hay went smoothly. Alfalfa, timothy and orchard grasses all matured early. With heat and sunshine, hay cured quickly, and baled up smoothly.

Then, the weather got hotter. There was no rain at all. The hay field where we expected to take a second crop off withered in the gravelly ground. This was when we started to worry about the renters beans. They had started well, but they needed moisture to fill out.

In the field where we took second cut, we got eight bales. We should have had twenty-five. The beans in the field looked wilted.

Finally, as August progressed, the weather broke. We got rain again. Lettuce planted in late May sprouted. Short stalks of corn produced two dozen small cobs. The pumpkins ripened at a third their usual size. However, I have heard from some that both field corn and soy beans filled out well enough.

Which brings us to the end of October and early November and a different calculation: a few percent too much moisture, and the harvested crop goes to the dryer, a process that saves it but costs money. And the day needs to be dry to run the combines. However, the weather has shifted. We've had snow and rain, both downpours and grey drizzly days resulting in a lot of waiting. On a rare bright and sunny day, the renter went at the beans here and our fields were done by dusk.

But they only got one row done on our second farm. With the next days rain, we knew they couldn't get at it. A sunny day, and nothing happened. Predictions of snow, and still nothing happened. We worried they'd had a break down.

Driving down a different road, I saw the work they had accomplished: these fields had not only been harvested, they had been worked and were ready for planting. So while we watched beans wait on our land, the farmers were hurrying through work elsewhere. They watched the weather reports closer than we did, and the afternoon before snowfall, the beans came off. They worked late, into the dark, to get those acres harvested.

That's when the complicated calculations of late fall hit me again: after beans, the common rotation is winter wheat. That means that in each field, not only do the beans have to come off, the land has to be reseeded immediately so that the wheat has a chance to sprout and get enough of a start to winter over. And people have to finish beans before starting corn because the combine has to be completely adjusted--different header, different settings inside for threshing. Each day is a calculation of what the weather will allow and what needs to get done.

We all know that farmers depend on sunshine in July. But in October and November, as the daylight hours shorten, the crop farmers' hours lengthen. The weather becomes more volatile, and the farmer works with the days they get, hoping for just enough good days to get harvest done and prepare for next year's food production. Sometimes working with nature feels like a battle against the odds.

Cathy Hird is a farmer, minister, and writer living near Walters Falls.