All that beautiful golden wheat, mowed down in the prime of life, littered across the field like so much matting. In the morning on the way to work, a disaster. In the afternoon on the way home, dozens of gigantic round bales of hay, ready to be "put up" in barns to keep the cows and horses company through a long cold winter.
Bales so huge no one could lift them unassisted. Bales so perfect and round they almost look fake. They spread out across the field like so many checkers on a board, waiting for some unseen hand to move them about, to take empires and make kingdoms and defeat brawny enemies. Except of course that life is no game. Despite the beauty of it all, food is serious business. Just ask anyone who does not have enough to eat. They will tell you.
Today in the warmth of the sun they offer sustenance. Hurry, farmer. Gather them in before it rains and they rot or mold or melt away. Make your crop secure. But first, let me take a picture. Such security and promise!
Bales so huge no one could lift them unassisted. Bales so perfect and round they almost look fake. They spread out across the field like so many checkers on a board, waiting for some unseen hand to move them about, to take empires and make kingdoms and defeat brawny enemies. Except of course that life is no game. Despite the beauty of it all, food is serious business. Just ask anyone who does not have enough to eat. They will tell you.
Today in the warmth of the sun they offer sustenance. Hurry, farmer. Gather them in before it rains and they rot or mold or melt away. Make your crop secure. But first, let me take a picture. Such security and promise!
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