My "Front Yard" at Twilight

For as many years as I can remember the end of June has brought haying time... A few years ago my parents decided to hang up the hayhooks and allow a very capable and kind hearted man to rent this land. His equipment rolls the hay into these giant bales, and soon he'll spirit them away on a long spikey pole to feed his cattle next winter. But in my memory this field is filled with small round bales about the size of a sheep... Each bale carefully initiated by a rickety old baler held together by some of the twine it used to bundle the hay. As these small bales dotted the sunset my dad came home from a day in the field or a day at the telephone company, depending on the time of the year. (Vacation for our family meant Daddy was home to bale hay.) Either way, he'd don a cool shirt, grab a glass of water or lemonade and give me the nod. Big stuff, I was allowed to drive either the tractor and "sled" that scooted over the ground... or more often the old '47 pickup truck. Daddy was so strong he easily tossed those bales high, higher.... way up there to the top of the truck or sled... the hooks in his hands becoming an extension of his tanned armes coated with hayseed and grass. Always grinning like mad, my dad, as I've said before, loved... actually lived to work. This kind of night was his favorite. We'd get one or two loads before the late orange sunset brought out the dew and the mosquitos. Then it was time to go in. Daddy always headed for the basement and his shower, and we ended the night with either a big glass of root beer at home or my choice.... at trip to the local Frostop Drive-in. These bales outside my house this year loom lavendar and plum against the navy sky with its teal clouds with rain streaks across the pink below... an artist's dream... Toss in the hues of the sunset, and the visuals are stunning for a small scope of land in the Midwest.... and what about that smell of fresh-cut hay? Pink sky at night.... hayfield delight....