After 3 days of trying to get the mowing started by 0530 to get as much done as possible before the 90 degree heat hit - thanks, Mom Nature, we're done with summer now, let's just segue right into late fall - the heat wave broke and mowing became a lot more fun and a lot less exhausting. By then, I was starting on the south pasture, having done as much as I wanted to do with the big north pasture.
It's kinda of relaxing, once you get once around the fenceline and can quit worrying about snagging the fence with the mower. Not that I'VE ever done that. I just rip high voltage wire off of power poles with the front forks (only once). Dale's in charge of snagging the fence with the rear wheel on the big brush hog.
The air was crisp, cool and clean (except whenever I hit a gopher mound or when the day heated up and the pollen released), the barn swallows dogged me, relentlessly dive bombing the insects the mower flushed, the hawks hovered gracefully overhead, waiting to see if I mangled a rodent or snake. The sky was absolute blue, and the smell of freshly cut bentgrass was, as always, intoxicating.
It's a chore mostly, but sometimes, it's not
The Legacy Oregon White Oak in the south pasture
Looking NE towards Nusbaum's pond (the bright sliver near centre)
I get it, Pony. There are days those sheep make me feel like that
The cows enjoy the freshly mown north pasture in the early morning cool
The homestead. There is a house in them thar trees, somewhere