Sunday, February 12th, 2017
There’s a time of year, late Summer to early Fall, when local farms mow their meadows and fields, providing hay for cattle and horses. As a child, the hill behind my house was mowed each year, with now antique equipment that spat out square blocks of hay my brothers and I would quickly gather to build forts and shelters to play in, until the farmer came back, picking up all the bales. That hill is now forest, as are many of the old meadows of New England. But those that remain, still go through this summer-ending ritual.
This piece, “Last Bale”, 30 x 24, of a local farm in Wilton, NH, captures the simplicity of the landscape following the baling and harvest, and in this case, of a single bale-for some reason-left behind.