The venerable Butler Farm Show’s kickoff on Monday gives us occasion, as it has for nearly 70 years, to celebrate and embrace Butler County’s agricultural heritage and traditions. It started as a friendly plowing competition in 1947; today, we exhibit our best of everything, from the things nearest and dearest to us, our children — in the Little Miss pageants and Supreme Master Showman contests, to things some might consider none of our beeswax — as in, best block of beeswax and best beeswax candles. Of course, there’s every example of produce, livestock, craft and handiwork on display and competing for blue ribbons, too.

Agriculture has always been about the rudiments of culture — the fruit of our labor and the work of our hands. The Farm Show is about abundance: what we collect, create and fashion beyond that which is deemed necessary. We show off our best strivings for superlatives. We create art. We set new standards in culture, in a hearkening to an American way of life captured in Currier & Ives lithographs and Saturday Evening Post magazine covers.

Alas, those days might be gone forever. Can any future rival them?

We think so. Consider a report in Monday’s Butler Eagle about a new trend emerging across America: farm feasts. What was once a smattering of farms offering expensive dinners within view of the fields where the food was raised has sprouted into popular summer and fall events that run the gamut, from multicourse dinners to weekly burger nights at farms across the country.

According to the Associated Press story, these farm feasts are popping up from California to Vermont and are part of the growing agritourism movement. Diners enjoy locally raised foods while farmers supplement their income.

At a recent soirée in Cambridge, Vermont, 60 people paid $65 apiece to sit on haybales and dine al fresco among grazing cattle. One of the diners, Barbara O’Connell said, “It makes you appreciate farmers in a different way. And you can’t beat the food.”

Other farm dinners include the works of a local winery or craft beer brewery. Those dinners pull in $200 a plate in some locations. Good for them.

Now wouldn’t that be a Farm Show-stopper — a formal dinner option somewhere beyond the standard midway options of pizza, candied apples and deep-fried everything.

Ehh ... maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see. It would require just the right chef. Either way, we’d have to cut out the alcohol. That’s long-standing Farm Show policy.

The point is, the Farm Show has dared to change and try new things over the years. Adaptability has been a good thing. There’s no way the show would have endured seven decades had it remained just a plowing contest.

The switch last year to a new amusements vendor was a good example of such adaptability. Bates Brothers returns this year, with unlimited rides included in the price of admission.

Agriculture itself has changed dramatically over the years to survive and flourish in an ever-changing American economy. More changes are imminent.

Monday’s CBS Morning news program included a segment about suburban neighborhood farms, called “agrihoods,” where residents and their children get involved in the growth and processing of their food. Neighbors can work on the farms and take home a share of the produce. Some of the farms include a trained nutritionist who helps educate adults and children in turning their produce into fresh meals or canned, pickled or otherwise preserved goods. The concept has spread to 12 states already. It’s a breakthrough concept, in which two traditionally antagonistic land uses — residential and agricultural — can be blended into one harmonious function.

If these trends catch on, we can rest assured we’ll get samples of some kind at a future Butler Farm Show. More likely they will catch on because of the Farm Show.

It has always been a trendsetter. Always will be. And that ain’t a load of hay.