by Hardscrabble Farmer
The Burning Platform
The early Spring started out with a decent amount of precipitation; cool nights that kept the moisture at ground level, soft rains in the evenings at least three times each week and an occasional soaker that shut down Sundays so that we all stayed inside playing board games or doing puzzles. The grass came up blue in May, saturated, nitrogen soaked. Every time I looked at the cows their heads were down, methodically making their way in a picket line across the pasture, apricot colored lawn mowers busy with life.