Fields of Gold

No, not the Sting song.

For as along as I can remember, I have had a poetic fascination with wheat fields. Once the wheat ripens and turns golden brown, the way it sways in the breeze just seems so beautiful to me. I always preferred the years that Dad planted wheat in the front field rather than the back so it was right behind/beside the house.

It makes a great backdrop for photos.

Dad - circa: 1995

Abby - circa: 2002

Janice - circa: 2013

The wheat harvest was one of my favourite times on the farm. When helping dad move wagons or just being on hand for helping with whatever, I loved watching the combine make its way across the field, taking in the grain and spitting out the chaff. I can still smell that smell and even taste what it was like to pop some kernals into my mouth as they were moving from the wagon into the auger boot.

Even now, I love to see all the combines making their way through the fields. When they are done, everything looks so neat and tidy and sometimes you'll even see bales of straw dotting the fields. A few trips to the farm in recent weeks produced some great photo opportunities for capturing these moments.