Mike went back and forth across the field, raking hay. Picking it up, turning it over, letting it dry out to prepare for baling. The hawks circled above. Three red tail hawks and at least three rough legged hawks.
I drive the New Holland with the baler and accumulator behind. A mouse scurries out of the way. Next round through the field going the other way, a rough legged has this mouse pinned on the ground, ripping it to pieces with its sharp curved beak. I approach and it flies off, mouse in talons.
We work the field of grass. This is our first batch of grass hay and it looks good. I jump out of the cab to check the bales forming up below the chute. The hay is dry and slick, almost soft to the touch, compared to the rough alfalfa hay. We will sell this hay for less than others in the area. But it is our first crop. And it is income. Just looking for our next meal.
By this week's end, with good luck, the second cutting of alfalfa will be cut, baled, and stacked. And the Farmer will tend to his machinery. Cleaning and greasing, fixing what needs to be repaired. Another year. The harvest will be completed.
Having stepped away from farming and now back in, I recall again how the weather and the seasons play such an important role in a farmer's life. This long dry spell has been awesome for haying. How nice to have this positive perspective as we, in fire, begin to think of fire restrictions, watching the grass cure, the energy release components rise, and the forecast predicts day after day of dry. Sitting in my office, this weather is frightening.
I work, planning for fires. Mike works, putting up hay. The hawks soar above. We all look for our next meal.
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