I am traveling in the rolling hills in the western part of Iowa. The last time I was here in August, it was like sailing a boat over oceans of deep green corn fields.
This time is different. I am moving past field after field after field of brown lifeless stalks that did not produce a single ear of edible corn. They wave their devastated promise in the wind. The fields are empty: the bustle of harvest won’t take place this year.
Will the reality of climate change turn America’s bread basket into a desert? Pray for the farmers…
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