One afternoon I did some farmer-ferrying. That’s where you give a guy a ride somewhere or pick him up because machinery and trucks are not right handy where he is, i.e. he doesn’t want to walk four miles to get where he needs to go.
This day required me to wait a half-hour, then catch a ride home with the bale wagon, leaving Little Green in the field for little brother to drive home when he got off the tractor.
It’s a pleasure to be out there. Pictures just don’t really do it, do they? Get across the sounds, the scents, the size of the sky, the colours, the expanse of it all. This particular land has no neighbours for some distance, so you feel really alone but for the birds. I also love riding in the bale truck. What is it about big old trucks that bounce loudly along? Their engines make a certain sound that smaller ones don’t.
The quarter-sections are identified by number; 15 and 22 abut each other several miles from our place.
There’s a podcast about the music of Joni Mitchell that I recommend if you like her stuff. Some of the talk is technical so beyond my ken, but it highlights the power, beauty and impact of Mitchell’s genius, which seems to have come naturally to her, and no one else has that particular bent.
Supper one night: Hamburger Chop Suey.
Damn, that was good. Recipe at link.