A LITERARY COLLECTION FROM VERMONT WRITERS

I'm seeing but not reading, because I can't read them, so many accounts this week and I know into the next. It is the time of year for old horses to have their tails cut, because old loved horses all go to heaven with pieces of their tails and manes missing. It is the season of good-byes to old wonderful friends who have seen their people through many a hard day and many a wonderful day. It is the time to make that final decision that no one ever wants to make, but because of

Two lads holding onto a double sized tarp, pulling it up over the top of two fully loaded hay wagons when the wind picks up. Those boys fight hard and win, until the wind grabs the tarp as if to yank it and billow it up and off the wagon. The boys do not give up. Meanwhile, a tractor is out in the field chasing windrows that are running faster than the tractor hauling the baler can keep up with. Fully powering the tractor, means the baler is going top speed. The driver looks

I dread hay season. Every part of my being shutters at the thought of beginning another summer of haying. But on the flip side of that statement, I have some great friends down there that join me. I have a red-tailed hawk that has joined me every year for many years now. His name is Falcone and he glides by and comes in for lunch that I prepare for him as I rake the hay up and expose his feast. He is my best friend in the hay field. I also have my barn swallow friends that ci