I can’t explain what fascinates me about hay bales in a freshly mown field, but every time I come across this bucolic scene, I have to stop and drink it in. Bob suspects it’s the connection between hay and horses that captivates me. Naturally, I was delighted when a crew moved in to mow and bale the pastures at Oilseed. When they were finished, I was enchanted with our new vista.
This morning, Bob and I got out of bed when the first rays of sun began trickling across the tops of the trees. We took our cameras and walked to the high point of the property. Along the way, we saw a hawk on the power lines, deer leaping away into the trees and heard the croak of a blue heron as it winged its way east. We watched the steam rise off the pond waters and marveled at the beauty of tiny, perfect spiders webs, strung with dew drops in the long grass.
And of course, we took pictures of bales from every angle, with every kind of background. Our feet got wet and we were a little chilled by the cool morning air, but the pleasure of sharing this unhurried look at our beautiful world stayed with us all day.