It's starting right after Father's day but not a day late.
It's jumpin' off and climbing on to help seal the fate
of the sickle you just replaced and the reel that's been repaired.
It's wearin' a big hat just to keep away some of that hot summer air.
It's hay fever and golly by gosh that's the worst stuff around.
It's watchin' out for any rock or fencepost layin' on the ground.
It's a million trips to the hardware store to grab the parts and talk to folks in the know.
It's hours to think and just to ride, laying the grass in the straightest rows.
It's ice jinglin' in the tea jar as mom brings out lunch at noon.
It's kids naggin' and hopin' they'll get to take a break real soon.
It's learnin' how the grass has dried to decide if it's ready to bale.
It's being thankful for rain if no hay is down and prayin' there won't be hail.
It's family time, everyone helps otherwise the work wouldn't all get done.
It's red skin and farm tans from the beating down red sun.
It's a field with round bales for miles, some little square ones on the side.
It's a big shade tree in the evenings that is the perfect place to reside.
It's holy jeans and old tennis sneakers and watchin' out for snakes.
It's the earliest drivin' lessons us country kids can appreciate.
It's summer's work and winter's food all rolled up into one.
It's long days and late nights and fields full of great memories when the work's done.
- Trinity Lewis