On a humid August morning, the sun hangs low and heavy, and coiled bales of hay are strewn across the field. Mounded haystacks transform the landscape as if they’re marking summer’s end, or at least the impending onset of autumn. The free flowing fields are a thing of the past. What once was wind-swept grass and flowers is now banded together and contained, destined to be fodder for farmyard creatures in the coming months. It makes me smile me to imagine their surprise as they bite into a remnant of clover, a small burst of sweetness amidst the hay. Are black eyed Susans bitter or sweet? Queen Anne’s lace? Bitter or sweet, all the tender grasses and blossoms, once buoyant and bright, are now dried and tucked away.
As fall speeds toward me, I feel a bit like that about my summer. It’s like I’m bundling up all my experiences, those bright sweet spots of summer, and neatly tucking them away. As if I’m counting on them to sustain me and nourish me through the coming months. Maybe I am.
But even as summer’s remnants are gathered and bound, the air is filled with the sweet smell of harvested fields, and fruit burgeons in the trees, promising more to come. In the field beside my house, the goldenrod flourishes, bold and gold, in undulating waves. I remind myself that each ending contains a beginning. So, even as I hold the fading season close, I open to the new one. Summer is fading but autumn holds its own rich rewards.
This metaphor is beautiful, and an important reminder. I love the part about hidden blossoms swept up in the harvest that may bring unexpected delight to some grazing creature.
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Thanks! The thought of those hidden blossoms never fails to make me smile.
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“As fall speeds toward me, I feel a bit like that about my summer. It’s like I’m bundling up all my experiences, those bright sweet spots of summer, and neatly tucking them away.”
Gorgeous line. And thought. And metaphor, inspired by the bales of hale.
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There’s something very evocative to me about a field of hay bales. I love taking pictures of them too, in all sorts of weather.
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We used to have a farm and I loved the smell of fresh cut hay, and like you, loved looking at the rolled bails of hay dot the landscape. I love your personification wondering how the different plants would taste and bundling up your summer memories. 🙂
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Fresh cut hay is an amazing scent and the neatly rolled hay never fails to catch my eye. I have a decided preference for the round bales, lol.
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I love the thought of bundling all the sweet grass of summer. Tumbling toward fall.
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I’m definitely feeling a bit of fall in the air.
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Molly, this is beautiful as is your photo. I resonate with your words because I grew up around farms looking at bales of hay and I still look at them. You hooked me at “the sun lays low and heavy.” In your first paragraph, I love all your sensory words and how they bring back good memories from when I was a child walking through fields picking wildflowers, wild strawberries, or trying to catch fast frogs. I also love how your imagination “makes me smile me to imagine their surprise as they bite into a remnant of clover, a small burst of sweetness amidst the hay. Are black-eyed Susans bitter or sweet?”
In your second paragraph, I like your repetition of tucked away to “tucking them away” and how that movement ties your paragraphs together or lets them flow together. This sentence “I’m bundling up all my experiences, those bright sweet spots of summer, and neatly tucking them away.” I also resonate with and love.
In your third paragraph, I picture your journal, notebook, or camera are full of summer’s sweet memories and how you’re now going to enjoy autumn’s sweet smell of harvested fields and goldenrod. I love this sentence and picture it:
“the goldenrod flourishes, bold and gold, in undulating waves.” (My goldenrod comes out in September, and it is covered with so many different kinds of bees.) Great ending, too. Thank you for sharing and inspiring me. 🙂
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Thanks so much, Gail. I struggled to write this post, so I’m especially glad it resonated for you.
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I can see it now – your next photography exhibition! This is a definite keeper. I do wonder if cows like chomping on black-eyed Susans as much I like growing them in our yard. A July flower here in York!
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I do find it entertaining to imagine which flowers are sweet and which are bitter. It seems like they should all be sweet, doesn’t it?
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