It’s the time of year that farmers have a love/hate relationship with their fields. It is haying season.
On the first really sunny day we’d had in a while, Harley and I headed out early for our morning walk. The sunrise over the hills of Picadilly seen from Mulberry Lane was spectacular. Fields on both sides of the road were fragrant with mature hay, ready for harvest.
Even weeds look beautiful at sunrise. Harley is patient when I stop to shoot photos, taking my time to bend over and have a look to see how a photo might appear.
In the warm glow of sunrise, the hay takes on a golden cast.
Seed heads begin to dance as a light breeze blows across the field.
The mature seed heads of the timothy hay glow as they blow in the early morning breeze.
Almost beyond mature, the hay crop is ready. It’s time for that first cut and judging by the density of the growth in the fields, the yield should be excellent. Farmer Brown’s cows will eat well this winter!
In another day or two this field will first be full of bales – and then empty, ready to grow some more for a second cut and harvest for the season.
I love haying season (now that I no longer have to lift and stack bales). The smell of the dew drenched grass and then the intoxication of the aroma of newly cut hay wafting in my windows.