Oh Kentucky; springtime in your midst is a hopeful and promising time. A time to plan and aspire for better conditions going into next season.
The sun warms and the grass grows, and with hopeful regularity a gentle shower of rain crescents the shimmering waves of green forage.
With your lush hillsides you tease us into thinking we may harvest your bountiful excess of green grass you have bestowed us. But it is a trick!
With the thought of full hay barns, you lure us into mowing your fields only to have it precipitate unexpectedly as the baler is being pulled from its winter slumber of the barn.
To our neighbors we go; to borrow a small piece of hope. To fluff up our chances, and scatter about the idea that the crop is not lost.
The tedder tries to fight off the oppressing humidity, but Oh Kentucky, you do not relent! Through scattered showers and hazy hills we remain optimistic for the balers return.
And when it returns, chasing windrows and spitting out green bales of promise,
we pray for mechanical stability of at least one more day.
The appearance of the challenge has faded, but not the need to work diligently to secure the fruits of our labor and reduce the exposure for our new winter stockpile.
With hay barns full and equipment put away, we delight as dark clouds build in the western sky.
Its then Oh Kentucky, that we thank you for a bountiful harvest from your rolling hillsides.