I have been going back to this field at least twice a week for about a month now, just waiting to get a picture of the harvested field. If you’ve been reading Classical Gasbag this year, you know that I started taking pictures of this field in the early spring, shortly after the corn started growing. I’ve gone back to the field roughly once a month since then to document the growth. The field was finally harvested this week.

I started to wonder if they were ever going to harvest this field. The corn pickers had finished in  most of the fields in this area a week or two ago. I had been out to this field so often in the preceding month that I believe the local farmers were wondering why I kept driving there; not often enough to live there, but too often for any other honest reason.

I wasn’t the only odd person in the area, at least by my standards. More than a couple of times I observed a woman in a pickup truck, just down the road, who was pulled off the side of the road, next to a field where cattle were grazing. That in itself wasn’t odd, but she appeared to be leaning out of the truck window and was talking to one steer that had its head stuck through the fence, grazing outside of the field. Was she telling the steer that the grass only appeared to be greener outside the fence?  I do know that each time I passed her, she swiveled her head from the steer and stared at me as I drove by. To her, I was the strange one. It is a matter of perspective.


A quote about perspective

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.”
Abraham Lincoln