Hayrides, Heartstrings and Home
There’s something about fall on the farm that stirs my heart. That comforting blend of nostalgia and joy that only comes from being surrounded by family, laughter, and the smell of harvest in the air. Recently, my family gathered for one of my favorite traditions of the year, our annual family dinner and hayride.
For weeks leading up to it, my brother Jeff and his wife, Dee, had been busy preparing and deep cleaning the barns, sweeping out the dust of another season, and stringing up lights that would glow like fireflies against the evening sky. When the day finally arrived, it was as if nature itself had joined in the celebration. The weather was crisp but gentle, and the trees stood in their autumn glory. Their fiery reds, golden yellows, and amber oranges painting the backdrop of our family gathering.
The barn door was open to the evening as tables filled with food and laughter stretched across the space. The smells of roasted vegetables, homemade dishes, chili, appetizers and desserts filled the air. A true fall bounty of goodness and love. Little ones darted between the tables my granddaughters, Emery and Autumn and their cousins, Isla, Cash and Caroline with their giggles and voices carrying through the night like joy. Their excitement was contagious as they eagerly awaited the highlight of the evening, the hayride.
Before we ate, we formed our familiar circle with hands clasped, heads bowed, giving thanks for the food before us, for family members near and far, and for those who have gone before us. It’s one of my favorite moments of the evening and the deep sense of connection that reminds me of where we come from and who we are together.
After dinner, it was time to pile onto the hay wagon, lovingly named Chuck’s Party Wagon after my dad. What began as his prized hay wagon has now been transformed by my son, Andrew, and brother, Jeff, complete with wooden sides, fold-down stairs, a sound system, cooler, and rope lighting. Straw bales lined the edges and blankets were draped over laps as we set off into the night.
The 2510 John Deere tractor roared to life, and soon we were rumbling down the familiar paths through the cornfield, music floating through the air, and glow-in-the-dark necklaces lighting up our laughter. I could feel my dad’s spirit there with us smiling, probably humming along, soaking in the joy of seeing his legacy of love continue on his land.
When we returned, the night was just beginning. A huge bonfire blazed in the corner of the yard, with a smaller campfire nearby for roasting marshmallows. The stars peeked through the dark sky as stories and laughter filled the cool night air. And just when everything felt picture-perfect, gusts of wind sent embers dancing a little too far.
For a moment, we all froze then sprang into action as the “family fire brigade” (my two brothers, son, and great-nephew) grabbed five-gallon buckets of water, dousing the perimeter grassfire before they reached the nearby cornfield. Within minutes, all was well again, and laughter replaced the momentary tension. It was one of those chaotic moments that becomes a family legend, told and retold with growing humor each year.
As the night wore on, we settled back into our circle around the fire, faces aglow, and hearts full. Marshmallows toasted, stories unfolded, and memories were tucked quietly into our hearts. I watched my family while generations gathered under the same sky and felt so much gratitude.
In a world that moves fast and demands so much of us, it’s easy to forget how healing it can be to slow down and spend time with the people who matter most. These are the moments that remind me what’s truly important. Not the work undone, not the to-do lists, but the connections that anchor us.
When we gather, we’re not just sharing food or stories, we’re sharing pieces of our lives, our laughter, and our love. We’re weaving another thread into the fabric of our family story, one that will hold us together long after the embers fade.
So here’s my gentle invitation to you: make time for the people who fill your heart. Whether it’s a backyard dinner, a game night, or a long talk over coffee, these are the moments that become the heartbeat of your life. Because at the end of the day, some of my greatest joy comes from hayrides, heartstrings and home.
xo, Sheryl
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