Richard is haying every night until midnight. I was up last night at midnight too, but I was settling down from an evening of food and drink and conversation with the artists. The neighbor was swathing by 5 this morning, the swather’s headlights leading the way across the field back and forth, back and forth. Five hours later, after I had gone for a walk, eaten breakfast and talked some more, I began my workday. The neighbor was still swathing. The crops are early and thin due to the drought. I was sad to see the golden-white stalks, however small, go so soon. I went to the top of the hill and took photos of the serpentine pattern of windrows and the topiary like definition to the irrigation ditch. It is all visual for me, but for the ranchers it is feed and ultimately dollars. Food or art?