Snow in the forecast, but it was a sunny Friday afternoon and unseasonably warm. I had a long list of things I wanted to accomplish. They didn’t get done.

My wife sent a text: “Are you done work? Want to enjoy the weather and go for a walk?”

So it was out into Ottawa’s urban forest, and the trail that has been her favourite lately.  Then she got diverted: “Let’s see where this leads!”

I could see where that trail led: out of the forest and into what looked like a farmer’s field. But we followed the path anyway.

It did indeed lead down to some fields. Following the tractor ruts brought us to another trail that we hadn’t seen before but which is obviously part of the National Capital Commission’s trail system. We found a way back through the fields to our destination, though that required some trail breaking on our part.

The expedition left me with a question though. Why would the farmer not harvest one of his (or her) fields? One field of corn was still full of stalks, the ears unpicked. We could see that many had been nibbled by local wildlife, but the harvest was still waiting. With snow on the way, time has pretty much run out.

I don’t know much about corn, other than that I like to eat it. So I don’t know whether this field was full of feed corn or whether those ears would be good for human consumption. I do know the harvest was more than ready, and it seemed like no-one was going to come to do the job.

This Bible passage came to my mind, from Matthew 9:

Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”

I don’t know why this one field wasn’t harvested, why the corn is still on the stalks as we approach the end of November. Maybe it was just to remind me that no matter what the crop, it does not harvest itself. Somebody has to understand the need and head out into the fields before winter comes.