I love how the sheep that are so aloof every other time of the year come to hay. They are still wary, but at least they acknowledge our existence, even if only from the corner of their horizontal eyes.
The hayshed is half empty. There’s probably another month and a half of feeding out left, and then we’ll start to wonder about this summer’s hay: when we’ll cart it, how much it’ll cost this year, and how much we’ll need. We’ll scribble calculations on the backs of envelopes, but in the end as usual it’ll depend on the weather – if we get rain and sun at the right times – and who has hay for sale. We can’t cut our own here because our ground is too rough and uneven.
Meanwhile, used baling twine mounts up on the hook in the garage. At the end of the season most of it will go to the tip. There’s a limit to the uses even the most ingenious farmer can find for it.