Some toil in the fields nearby
Two days ago, I admired the lush field just south of me. A full crop of what I suppose can be referred to as grass gone wild. Today, a very different view.
Many things take a long time to happen. Not agriculture. The fields will have been planted only a few months back, and now we’re gearing up for the start of harvest. The process will stretch out from the middle of this month until just before frost (thinking of potatoes), but then the big machines will come in and cart everything away to storage. And in the interim, only a discerning eye will realize what is happening, day and night. Stuff grows, if you let it!
We have similar outcomes in the fishery. Why, it was only in mid-May that the boats threw all their traps overboard, to start their process. Now, all done, and the lobster are headed for cold storage (I assume). Again, to someone that casts an eye, once in a while, the mad rush of the process will be missed.
I am awed by the sense of purpose one has to have to sow seeds or bait traps against an eventual gain. Seems to work, though.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are doing our day-to-day. Month after month. Year after year. How to explain to someone who “gets” the idea of a season about what the rest of us do, as we toil behind closed doors. I would be hard put to justify how I spent close to thirty years in the workplace. Or to visualize what I produced, next to a mountain of potatoes.
