What is it about land that causes it to be so desirable? Is it the physical possession of terra firma that brings comfort and protection? Is it a curse to want to possess as much as possible?

Owning land is a European attribute, as the Native Americans believed it belonged to the Great Spirit and was only theirs to tread upon and they were thankful to harvest the bounty it provided. Not so with Europeans who came here with designs on staking out as much as they could possess. Literally all our ancestors were lured to this country by cheap or free land that would support a family and provide a future. The attractiveness of the Plains, desolate and dangerous as they were at the time, was the possession of the soil.

Farmland has been considered the true measure of wealth. Many people speak of it in "quarters" or 160 acre blocks that make up one-quarter of a square mile, as the reference for one's assets. Expansion of a farm to one that is contiguous to it has always been attractive as the saying goes: "Farmers don't want to own more land, just that which joins them."

I don't think everyone accumulates land just for the purpose of holding a large block as leverage against changing times. Some look at the challenge of improving a farm so that a greater annual yield can be extracted or measures of conservation can be applied. I rode and walked with a cattleman and farmer from central Iowa this summer that took great pleasure in planting every row in contour and hated each bare wash with a determination that the soil of his farm would stay put and be productive.

A farm that stays in a family for generations seems to develop a soul. The economic turmoil of the 1930s, 1950s and 1980s caused many farmers to have to sell land to stay solvent or, in extreme cases, lose farms to the bank. There was as great a sense of loss as when a family member had died and a level of shame that caused some to take their own lives.

The current situation in the Midwest is a rapid rise in land prices brought on by suburban expansion, government farm payments and as a hedge against inflation by non-farm investors. Those who hold the land dear are fearful that a collapse could take it from them while others are trying to anticipate the top of the market and sell to the highest bidder.

Land is the only true equity many farmers possess. Those who bought in the 1940s and 1950s now sit on an asset that is 100 times the dollar value of the initial purchase price. It is a good investment that will feed a family for 50 years and allow its owners to have a proper place within society and then be the basis for their care at the end of life.

For some, the land is not an asset that should be sold. It is a legacy that is to be passed on to succeeding generations to hold their place and to provide for their needs. The pride of century farmers is immeasurable as they see continued ownership as a means to measure up to the expectations of ancestors they never met.

There is a dark side to accumulation of any possession, as I remember the fable of the king who gave away his land to his most faithful subjects. The king had so much land that he determined it best to give away all the land a man could walk or run around between sunrise and sunset. On the day of the year that this act took place, all the men set out at sunrise from the assigned point and staked out the amount of land they thought they could use as farm or pasture. One man determined that he would have more than any other and he began running at daybreak and went as far and wide as possible. He watched the sun and put down his stakes as he defined each side of his new holdings. As sunset approached, the king was standing on the hill where all had set off that morning and he saw the man running toward him from many miles away. The man managed to make it to the top of the hill before sunset and fell down as he finished. The king went to congratulate him for his incredible feat but as he touched him with his hand he realized that the man was dead.

Still we seek it, treasure it, measure ourselves and others by it, but the land goes on never really knowing our dominance over it. Perhaps that's why it's so desirable.

Editor's note: Ken Root is a farm anchor at WHO Radio in Des Moines, Iowa. He is a 28-year veteran of agricultural broadcasting and writing. He can be reached by e-mail at: kenroot@clearchannel.com or by writing to him at the Journal at P.O. Box 760, Dodge City, KS 67801.