Reminds me of my grandfather's farm in upstate NY about 45 years ago. His baler threw the bales onto a wagon attached to the baler. My cousin or whomever the farm hand was at that time, would stack the bales. Then they were carried directly to the barn, sent up the hay elevator and stacked in the loft. The fragrance of dry hay was so sweet.
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Reminds me of my grandfather's farm in upstate NY about 45 years ago. His baler threw the bales onto a wagon attached to the baler. My cousin or whomever the farm hand was at that time, would stack the bales. Then they were carried directly to the barn, sent up the hay elevator and stacked in the loft. The fragrance of dry hay was so sweet.
I cannot say "hey" from Washington - I do love hay bales though.
This was the view of the farm down the road. I was going to take a picture, but the hay sold really quickly. Taught me to procrastinate.
To think we have to buy them in during times of draught. And, at great cost!
I saw this out my back door in Northern AZ as a little girl. Thank you for the tender reminder.
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