Musings On Country Life

Several months ago, we moved out to the country. Our home sits on 14 beautiful acres overlooking a river. Is this heaven or hell? As we adapt to country life, I find I need a creative outlet to share the trials and tribulations, as well as the joys of country life.

Ahh . . . . Country Life!

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Hey, Hey, Hay!

I have spent three delightful days being entertained by the neighbor farmer as he harvests hay on the acreage next to us. I sit with a beer in hand, and my trusty camera to record the progress as he works in the July heat and humidity. Harvesting hay seems to be a multi stage process that requires dusty work, patience and big boy toys. I am short on all three, so the best thing I can do is stay out of the way and document his progress.

Day 1: The farmer shows up with a new cutting tool attached to his big red tractor. I was fascinated to watch as this cutter could be swung out to the side, making it easy to get around obstacles. It was easy to track his progress because a big cloud of dust followed as he cut the hay – which looks like a big field of weeds if you ask me. Near the end of the day, the farmer left and I pondered how he was going to collect this mess into bales.

Day 2: I’m finishing my morning coffee when I see a tractor followed by a cloud of dust out in the field. Time to gear up and hit the lawn chair with my camera. It is too early for a beer, so I sit with my coffee and trust Dolly Dog at my side as we watch an odd machine gather the hay and flip it into rows that are called windrows (I know this because I looked it up on the internet!) It is a funny little machine, and I have no idea how it works, but having the hay in rows offers an excellent photo opportunity.


Day 3: As I drive up the driveway, I see a suspicious cloud of dust out in the field again. Sure enough, the farmer is collecting the hay into bales. Now we are talking! This is an amusing process of driving up and down the windrows in some pattern that only the farmer understands. At some point, the baler is full and the tractor pauses and gives birth to a round bale of hay. I kid you not, there is a pause, a grunt and then the back end opens up and spits out a bale of hay.

The bales are round and since we live on a hill I found myself wondering what prevents the bales from rolling downhill. I soon got my answer . . . absolutely nothing! No sooner had the thought crossed my mind when one of the bales started rolling downhill and out of sight. I had visions of a bale of hay going over the edge of the quarry and into the water. Does hay float?


My husband drove up a few minutes later and asked what I was doing. “Supervising,” I reply. “Grab a beer and come watch.”
Dolly supervises hay baling.

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