There’s a lot of this everywhere lately:
Straw Bales by crystalseas on flickr
Now it always reminds me of last summer, when I walked by Ellen’s room and saw this:
The fan was particularly inspired.
A few days later, it became this:
It’s funny how you see these things every year, but you don’t quite notice them until you have a fresh set of eyes.
Saline County Barnage by clay.wells on flickr
One day, there’s grass; the next day, it’s all cut. A few days later: bales everywhere. And a few days after that, they’re half gone, half clustered in the fields. And because there’s only a handful of people doing all the hay in the area, you almost never see it actually happening. You go to work, and there’s grass. You come home, there are bales. Later, fewer bales, or maybe clumps or stacks, or a long, long row. And maybe later, they just vanish. It’s staggered in pastures all around. Grass, bales, cut grass, rows, bales, grass, bales, bales, rows of bales, empty pasture, empty pasture, bales, grass, empty pasture, bales. Some of them disappear, some of them stay, grow snow, gray, sink, sink more. Sometimes there will be rows upon rows of varying age. I always wonder what they’re for. Wind break? Winter bedding? Erosion barriers? Fortification against the coming army of zombie cattle?
I suppose I could just ask someone.
(Thanks to Ellen Delbourgo for the photos. I’ll be sharing more of her work this week.)