It was a long, wet May, June, and July. Mostly, I got pretty grumpy about it. The kids got cabin fever. The chickens made a mess of the ground beneath their run right away no matter how fast I moved it; they tracked mud onto their eggs. The haying was postponed later and later, and the hay was beyond its prime. It was beaten down again and again. Mowing was difficult, and I was tired of picking up branches and having raging bonfires that were hard to start...
But one morning, when the rain wasn't falling, I grabbed my camera and swerved past the hay field on my way to the barn. Despite the overcast sky, the gray day, the nightly rain had left a sparkling, beaded coating on the bent and battered hay. Tiny orbs, small magnifying glasses, trembled in strings up each stalk and along each blade. They clung in clusters on the clover's cradling, cupped, leaves. I only had a few minutes to crouch in the saturated, grass and snap pictures from one or two vantage points, but those few minutes really made my day. How I would have loved to have spent and hour or two!
Here are some of my pictures from that morning.
Do you find them as enchanting as I do?
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