hay hay

Hello to you too.

When I was eight I broke my arm in a hay barn.

I did that by falling through hay and

wedging my arm between hay bales

and flipping onto more bales lower down.

Only they were quite a bit lower down

and I kind of yanked my arm and it broke.

And so ended my love affair with hay barns.

Years later when I grew up

(this process is still in action)

I realised that I hate hay,

It's dusty and dry,

smelly and messy,

it sticks you with it's bunt ends

and you get all itchy and scratchy.

And then generally I get weepy and need to sleep

otherwise Im like a bear with a sore head.

Not that we have bears in New Zealand

but we now all about sore heads.

Aside from my physical dislike of hay,

I love seeing hay after harvest.

I always think how satisfying it must be to have it

all piled up in your barn.

Or, even better on a truck being sold for lots of lovely moneys.

Buying and selling hay is a cut throat business I tell ya.

I've been driving past hay in various uniform shapes and sizes

(that's an oxymoronic statement)

and here's just a few of my favourites.

I love the blue sky and golden hay.

And a wee bit of snow on the mountains already.

The second lot this year and it's not even winter yet!



Irrigators and hay - my two favourite things to see from a safe distance.

I loathe getting wet and sneezy.

Nothing like a nice fence

which reminds me that I'm going to a fencing competition

in two Saturdays from now.

And hay comes in so many different shapes,

well, round and rectangle

and I supose in stacks.

I love the seasons I see everyday.
The cycles of planting and harvesting.
The paddocks changing as the plants grow and are harvested.
The colours are wonderful.

Weeks of headers reaping the results of summer.
(this is a bit cheaty - this photo was taken in the Wairarapa
and is not making hay).
Makes me tired thinking about how hard farmers and
contractors work during the season.