Although hay may seem like a rather simple farm product, there’s a fairly involved series of steps and machinery that go into producing those tidy bales.
Beside creaky, derelict tobacco sheds besieged by prying vines, a brilliant mosaic of ox-eye daises, cow vetch, wheat and field grasses blankets an overgrown field in Central Connecticut’s waning Tobacco Valley.
A breath-taking vista, wrought in endless peaks and valleys and lined with wild forests, unfolds before the humble front porch of a rustic, old cabin nestled amidst Vermont’s Green Mountains.
Riffles on a woodland trout stream purr softly beneath the forest canopy in the wilds of Northern Vermont amidst a luxurious mingling of leaves and mosses.
In a small field in northern Connecticut, rows of freshly-planted sprouts dance in the breeze amidst cloud-marbled skies and nearby woodlands.
With planting time fast approaching, a farmer guides his tractor in broad loops around the field, churning the soil in preparation for a crop of soybeans.
Distant barns flank a towering concrete stave silo, likely retired from use years ago but still faithfully standing sentinel over the farm.
Barns nestle into the bottom of a broad ridge where the hillside woodlands have taken to “greening over” after recent rains.
As the farms of Northern Connecticut settle into springtime, grasses and tiny wildflowers sprout up at the periphery of the fields.
Remote woodlands of Central Connecticut emerge from the grip of winter, channeling fresh spring rains through a sprightly brook which tumbles through the hills.
Amidst sandy beaches and gently swaying reeds, the iconic Five Mile Point Lighthouse rises from the shores of New Haven Harbor.
Ask just about anyone to describe a cow from memory and they will almost certainly mention the blotchy, black and white pattern of the iconic Holstein.