It gleams in the morning dew.

Its massive frame etches itself into the golden skyline — unmistakable, impenetrable and undeniable.

This larger-than-life structure stretches wider than it is tall. At times, it feels almost impossible to get around.

And it’s right in front of me. We need it. Our very survival depends on it. It feeds us, sustains us, and supports an entire way of life that most of us take for granted.

And yet, let’s be honest, it can be incredibly annoying.

The hum from it echoes across the fields like a lion’s roar, announcing its presence long before you see it. It moves slowly but steadily.

Nothing and no one will get in its way.

And sometimes, it feels impossible to escape. Even the smell lingers in the air long after it’s gone.

Still, this beast is grounded — literally. It presses into the soil not to conquer it, but to collaborate with it. Whether it churns, carves, sows, or shapes, it does so with purpose and, most of all, patience.

And patience is exactly what it demands from us, too — the law requires it.

Not only does the law require patience, but it also demands that we acknowledge it. From the fiery features that reflect back at you when you come upon it, to the amber light that flashes at you seemingly to the rhythm of your heart. Yet, seeing it early in the morning hours, your heart races as if you might be late for an important date.

And you might be.

For many office-bound, clock-watching, coffee-sipping commuters, seeing this machine could make them maniacal.

During the long seasons of sowing and harvesting, these machines emerge from the fields and onto our roads, especially during harvest.

Bountiful, beautiful, and expensive farming equipment, combines, grain carts, tractors, creeping along the shoulder, or slowly occupying your lane when there’s no room to spare. They’re out in full force as the seasons shift and the crops come in. And they aren’t going away any time soon.

Yes, they are to stay on the shoulder. Yes, they are to be marked so you will notice them: that fiery orange reflective triangle, those flags, that flashing red light. And yes, there may be certain roads they aren’t allowed on.

But no, you’re not allowed to pass just because they’re slow. You must follow standard traffic laws. If it’s a no-passing zone, you must respect that. You may only pass when it’s legal, safe, within the speed limit, and with enough space to return fully to your lane.

As Midwesterners and Kansans, we know this; we appreciate this.

Who better than us knows that these big, beautiful machines need to do their job to ensure we have food on our tables?

We know better than anyone the need of our heroes who don boots and caps over capes.

So next time you’re stuck behind one of these giants, instead of fuming, take a breath.

Look across that rolling land, the sun-stretched rows of crops, and remember: not everyone gets to live where life is sustained.

You’re driving along fields that shimmer like a memory from long ago, and you’re not just driving along them — you’re a part of them.

And someday, when you remember this drive, not the delay, but the landscape, you might find yourself grateful for the slow roads through those fields of gold.