Raising Clostridium

Nothing grows in the horse paddock. Should anything green attempt to venture forth from the ground, inquisitive and bored lips explore the small tender shoot, bite it off or completely yank it from the dry dust. Hooves clomp back and forth, large piles of horse manure fall from height and smother any small cellular attempts at germination. But, our paddock does produce. From the depths of the earth's core, perhaps, certainly a legacy from the generosity of the previous inhabitants. We're raising Clostridium tetani. On the pounds of metal that work their way to the surface, the nails, fence bits, twisted metal clumps, sharp little points, is the bacteria that causes "lockjaw". Tetanus. Cruel and horrible way to die. The reason you had tetanus shots each time you stepped on something in the back yard. Tetanus. The reason I called the pediatrician office when Youngest stabbed Eldest in the leg with a pitchfork. Tetanus. And it is happily harbored on all the bits of rusted metal. Walking through the paddock, sweeping the magnet on a stick that my father in law (brilliant gifter) saw would be so useful, yields a magnet head crowded with a tutorial on "Nail shapes and production since 1800". After a powerful rain, our paddock crop really abounds and one pass from the poultry yard gate to the barn door, keen eyes trained on the ground, might discover 14 nails. I spend time walking back and forth, slowly moving the magnet over the ground, listening to the telltale little "clicks" that signal a find. Swipe the catch into the feed sack trash bag and with the magnet clean, start over, eventually not hearing frequent "clicks".  In 7 years, I have not seen our paddock yield diminish. I would offer the kids a nickel for each piece, except I can't afford it.  It seems there is a never ending supply of gifts bearing Clostridium. I always marvel, and thank God for what seems like a daily miracle; no damage to our terribly susceptible horses. They are vaccinated regularly for tetanus, and I keep tetanus toxiod in my fridge, dosing it for all suspicious scrapes. But with a bounty such as this, can't discount the hand of the Lord for his assistance!
I do wish the previous human inhabitants of this much loved patch would have been more careful of their metals. They probably still thought bleeding evil humours would cure disease.

Today's crop.