Word harvest
I couldn’t resist sharing these fields of harvested Yorkshire wheat with you.
A few evenings ago, Tom and I went hunting for bales to photograph. He is making a series of paintings and I just wanted to revel in the golden light, the lengthening end-of-summer shadows.
I have aways particularly loved the fat tubular versions that begin to appear in the fields at this time of year. They stand on the horizon looking solemn and reminding me of ancient monoliths, stone circles, markings. They are already arranging themselves into a poem.
Tom, the son of a corn merchant, took an ear of wheat and tested it between his teeth for mositure content, pronouncing it around 15%, which is apparently good.
August 21st, 2009 at 8:09 pm (#)
Very nice pictures. I love that they are arranging themselves into a poem already. Good luck!
Lis