In between the green mountains
the silo holds grain
and most importantly hope.
Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.
Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.
In between the green mountains
the silo holds grain
and most importantly hope.
I never thought about this until I read your post. And, certainly, an empty silo going into winter would bring worry and unease. Hope comes along with a full larder.
So true! We have had an unbelievably hot dry summer. One hay cutting, ctops are burned up.
Hope for this year is slim, but it remains, ‘maybe next year’
we just go on and do what we can.
And the responsibility of continuing the herd — cattle, I presume — somewhere out of our vision.
A wonderful landscape!