In mid-August Saskatchewan, the first crop of hay bales is out in the fields.
These are no longer the traditional brick-shaped bales that a strong adult could flip with a pitchfork; they’re round, taller than most people, and you move them with a fork-lift attachment on the front of a tractor. It’s way more efficient and handling bales may look romantic, but I’ve done it and it sucks.
Scattered across the fields, they have something of the look of the megalithic alignements in Brittany. Or individually against the sky like the big stones at Avebury.
But get up close and they really don’t look like anything but what they are. Through the winter, the cattle make this into beefsteak.
