In the Fall of 1965 I was disking a plowed field a mile west of the Sacramento River, near the small community of Ordbend in northern California. It was one of those pleasant days, the soil was moist and breaking up into a nice seed bed for planting barley after being plowed a few weeks earlier. It was a day I should have been in class at Chico State College, but preferred being outside sitting on the seat of a D7 Caterpillar tractor pulling a John Deere 16 foot wide disc and making $1.75/hour.
On the back gang of discs there were a dozen or more Seagulls sitting on the frame with their backs toward me. They would jump off the frame as worms and other bugs appeared in the newly turned up soil then jump back up on the frame. At times I would stop the tractor to see their reaction. They would turn their heads and look directly at me as if they were asking, " why are you stopping?"
About four months later life abruptly changed after being drafted into the Army after losing my school deferment.
This happened 55 years ago, seems like yesterday.
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