You know that phrase, “make hay while the sun shines”? Well as it turns out, there’s no other way to do it. Hay making has to be timed just right. It has to be cut, dried, raked, baled and wrapped during sunny weather, or else it can rot or worse, spontaneoulsy combust. For real! If you don’t believe me, you can read this article.
The boys and I saw miles and miles of beautiful hayfields during our 600 mile journey to Granny’s and back.
We saw baling in progress and even had ourselves a sit on a big ol’ bale.
You can think nice thoughts on top of hay.
I think though, that it’s kinda easy for us city folks to take a drive in the country, look at the glorious fields of hay stretching from here to eternity, and not fully comprehend, at all, what they mean for the farmers and ranchers.
To them, this is not merely a pretty pastoral scene. Those bales mean there was rain, enough, but not too much, and then none at all during the two week window of the hay’s prime cutting season. They mean that the rancher’s cattle will eat this winter. They mean that maybe he can even sell some, and make a little extra money. Those bales mean that his family will eat too. They represent security through the lean months.
To really fully comprehend a painting you have to know who the artist was, their lot in life, their particular vantage point. It just means so much more that way. In the same way, to understand the real beauty of a hayfield, you have to grasp the work, blood, sweat and tears, accomplishment and security that are tied up in those bales. You can appreciate a beautiful work of art, wether you know the artist’s name or not, and you can appreciate a lovely field of hay too, but when you know the whole story, you can be touched and moved in a whole new way.
Or, you know, if you happen to be 2, 5 or 6 years old, and wordy Wikipedia articles bear many yawns, you might be better suited to reading Haystack by Arthur Geisert and making some of these yummy edible versions.
1 bag (11 oz.) butterscotch morsels
Two cups of fried chow mein noodles
3/4 cup creamy peanut butter
1 1/2 cups or so of salted peanuts
Melt butterscotch chips in the microwave in a large bowl, then stir in peanut butter. Add in your peanuts and noodles. Mix well. Scoop out by spoonfuls onto wax paper and put in refrigerator until ready to serve. (a couple of hours, if your little people can wait that long. If not, pop them in the freezer for half an hour or so 🙂
Then, you can sit back, enjoy your stacks, and imagine yourself driving through “Miles and Miles of Texas,” with wide open spaces as far as the eye can see. Delicious.
That’ll do little hayseed, that’ll do.