We waved at farmer Don, neighbor Keith and a guy we didn’t know in a white pickup truck. Sometimes, they initiated the friendly exchange. Sometimes, we waved first from a blanket in the front yard of our old farmhouse. There, my daughter, age 1 at the time, took her first lesson in the sign language of farm country.
Many of us wave like we shift gears: without thought. On light-traffic roads, the natural gesture falls into the category of expected courtesies, like holding the door when someone approaches. The unwritten rule applies along rural secondary routes, namely unstriped stretches of blacktop and gravel roads with infrequent travelers. Exclusion begins at the highway, but tractors are the exception. We always wave at tractors, whether the tractor drives down the road or works near the road in the field.
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Summer’s warm weather accommodates the most enthusiastic country waves. With windows down, farmer Mark extends his hand out the window above the cab of his old pickup truck. He may even point at you and grin big for extra special good-day greetings.
People working outside also exchange waves with vehicles. Motioning with obvious intention, the dominant arm extends sky-high to ensure visibility to the driver passing our farms and rural homes at a greater distance than if we met on the road. If our arms carry loads or our hands clearly grip the handles of the zero-turn mower, we substitute a single, deliberate head nod to say, “hello and good day.”
In the vehicle-to-vehicle exchange, waves abbreviate to one or two fingers lifted from the steering wheel for the friendly g’day salute. Completed appropriately, the simple, subtle exchange momentarily lifts the spirit with its neighborly tone, symbolic of Midwestern hospitality. The front-seat passenger may also participate but usually only when the driver consistently fails to engage in the practice.
Once in a while, my occupied mind fails to wave at a vehicle. Last second, I realize my violation of rural vehicle etiquette, and I feel worse when I know the driver. Upon arrival at my destination, I text the other guy an apology for my unintended snubbing in hopes to get us back on the same wavelength.
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About the Author: Joanie Stiers farms with her family in west-central Illinois, where they grow corn, soybeans, wheat, hay and cover crops and raise beef cattle, backyard chickens and farm kids.
