Haying has wound down for most ranchers. I always liked haying, partly because I knew when I got up in the morning exactly what my job was for that day. Plus, there’s nothing this side of heaven that smells better than fresh cut hay. I was sort of confused on the first day after the hay equipment was parked. There was plenty of work to do but the dilemma was what to tackle first, because a lot of it had been put on hold for haying.
The rhythm of a ranch year is always about grass. After the hay is harvested, it needs put away, so piling bales and moving them to stackyards is next on the list. (Not sure why we still call them stackyards when mostly, it’s bales that go there.) Hay smells different now; as spicy as sunflowers. Counting is part of this season. Is this enough hay to last all winter, or should we start shopping for more? And what’s the cost benefit analysis in that decision? There are a ton of predictions about the coming winter and they all disagree, which makes decisions difficult. And what if lightning causes one of the stack yards to burn?
As the season progresses, hay will be hauled out and strung to feed the cattle. Rancher’s noses are sensitive to weather so they’ll be sniffing for snow as much as listening to forecasts. But there’s a remnant of summer hayfield scent as a bale unwinds to a still green center.
In spring, we start sniffing for green. You can smell it coming, if your living depends on it. When green starts showing, there are more questions. What kind of grass year will this be? Will it rain? If there’s a late frost the early grass will be stunted, and cattle will have to be fed a while longer before turnout. If that happens, will there be enough hay left to hold them till warm weather starts the growth season? Will the hay be mature in time to have it put up before fall work starts, or will it all run together? I sometimes raked hay in a bitter October wind, wearing coveralls and gloves.
Along in mid-June, sweet clover blooms and your nose tells you to start getting equipment in order because haying isn’t far off. Ranchers say they raise cattle but, actually, we raise grass. Cattle are just the means to turn that into money, and some years the profit margin is slim to none. Most of us are rich on paper and poor in the pocket but we keep at it, mostly living on hope and following our noses through another year.
I miss the hayfield, but I just lit a candle called Hay Meadow and I’m headed out to get on the lawn mower.
Meet me here next week, and meanwhile, do your best. Somebody might like it.