Fresh, fragrant and not yet tarnished the grass was mowed at the same time. It laid in ragged armfuls. By the afternoon it was less bright, starting to dry out.
After a week, the grass was gathered again, into bigger stacks, dried for a longer time. The stacks were so tall that the children dug tunnels in them to play hide and seek, until the parents with pitchforks, struck the stacks with the instruments side to chase the children back home for they feared the stories of the grass demons who ate boys in the sun and girls in the night.
By now, the grass had become hay. The days were turning cold and chalky. The trailers came. The tractors also. The sheds needed to be all filled for the cows to survive winter.