Hay Before the Rain

Your brother promised to help "right after the first round." Your cousin, who owns the second baler, is posting from the beer tent at the Schwingfest in Zug. The contractor is booked by nine other farms who also read the forecast. At 13:10 the clouds over the Rigi turn grey. You rake, bale and stack 240 bales alone.

A navy and fir-green tonal plaid that hides hay dust better than your brother hides where he was. The magnetic flap pockets keep the phone in when you jump off the tractor, and the collar snaps keep the chaff out of your collar. The first drops land at 15:52. The last bale went in at 15:49.