The field, yes, the field, where the espadrille and hat men herd cattle, plow the land for sowing, milk the cows, make cheese, weave cattle and of course, they sing a tune reclining in a hammock next to a coffee . They are brave men who struggle from very early hours of the day, to sun and shadow.
These men are no longer seen in our fields, because by many factors they leave and do not return to follow the legacy of their parents.
On the one hand, certain parents send them to the cities to study so that at the time of graduation they return to contribute to managing the small, medium and large farms or herds, as we call them here in Venezuela, many do not return.
Another aspect that contributes to these boys leaving is the lack of incentives to work in the fields, since at least the small farmers do not get government or bank support. This makes them go to the cities to look for work and they stay.
Now we have to start rattling the cat, one of the things that is criticized in the field is education, it does not have professional level facilities near the communities, where these boys can receive studies nearby and thus professionalize the field, that if professional careers of and for the field.
So, boys ... return to the field of the world, that is the one that can save the people from hunger.
Oh, wonderful scenery of the field, at dawn with a smell of earth desolated by clouds in its time of not wanting to throw its powerful drops of water on these desert lands, blessed by God!
The images were taken from my cell phone book: FOR THE LLANOS DE APURE, 2007, Caracas, Venezuela.