Melted and Flowed

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Light and wind are running
over the headed grass
as though the hill had
melted and now flowed.
~Wendell Berry “June Wind”

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mowingfield

It will soon be haying time, as soon as a stretch of clear days appear on the horizon.  Today was to be cloudless but ended up drizzly and windy — not good hay cutting weather.

The headed grass is growing heavier, falling over, lodged before it can be cut, with the undulations of moist breezes flowing over the hill.   It has matured too fast, rising up too lush, too overcome with itself so that it can no longer stand.  It is melting, pulled back to the soil.  We must work fast to save it.

The light and wind works its magic on our hill.  The blades of the mower will come soon to lay it to the ground in green streams that flow up and down the slopes.  It will lie comfortless in its stoneless cemetery rows, until tossed about by the tedder into random piles to dry, then raked back into a semblance of order in mounded lines flowing over the landscape.

It will be crushed and bound together for transport to the barn, no longer bending but bent, no longer flowing but flown, no longer growing but grown and salvaged.

It becomes fodder for the beasts of the farm during the cold nights when the wind beats at the doors.   It melts in their mouths, as it was meant to.

Truly.

 

lodge2

mownfield4

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photo by Nate Gibson

2 thoughts on “Melted and Flowed

  1. “Too overcome with itself so that it can no longer stand”! Oh my! This whole thing was a perfect visual even without the beautiful photos–and not meant the way this one sentence struck me this morning! But that sentence, I’m sure, was a little nudge from God that I’m letting myself get too full of myself and my opinions yet again!!!
    I love the way you write, Emily, whether prose or poetry, and appreciate that you’re willing to humbly express your heart to us!!

    Like

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