The Second Cutting

With but one pass finished, the grasses still stand waiting to be cut.

For some reason I find the processing of haying to be extremely soothing to watch--probably because I am not the one doing the work. When the farmer across the way heads into his hayfield to cut, I am drawn to the porch from where I can measure his progress as the day wears on.

Cutting done, these grasses will dry under the August sun.

With each successive pass, the once-tall grasses fall gracefully into place on the ground, forming a quilted pattern of new-mown hay. As the yet-to-be-cut patch diminishes, my forays onto the porch for a peek become more frequent, for it's not the finished job that thrills me so--although baled hay in the field is quite attractive. No, it's the progression of the job that draws me to watch and enjoy.

Perhaps it's the predictability of the work. Perhaps it's the steadily progressing change in the landscape. Whatever the cause, I find haying time to be extremely soothing to observe.