There is something about the scent and sounds of a working farm.  The musical drone of a tractor in the field mingles with the natural drone of the flies looking for their pound of flesh.  Or maybe just a nibble.

The milk truck comes and goes, myriad bird songs.  The flit of barn swallows.  Vultures searching for thermals and meals.  There's a home in the clouds overhead, but the northwest wind brings a new white blue gray batch that may bring damp by noon.  I'm sheltered.  The animals are out.  Occasional little gusts threaten the canopy (made on Iowa street in California).  The small, strategically rocks hold for the moment.  I've wandered midst the cow pies to examine two large granite rocks.  One on the edge of the right of way.  One in the middle of the field.  I wonder why.

The red truck leaves.  A white truck arrives to see him.  Leaves.  The red truck returns.  They both drive diesels.  The drive is longs and as I write this the farmer is pulling out, the friend returns, pulling in.  The friend backs out.  The farmer leaves.

The owners mother arrives and pays.  Another group arrives from fred's garden stamped away.  Ah.  When the red diesel left it was without the farmer who now leaves with the friend in the white diesel.  The dog barks.. A rooster crows.  As I see the people tour up by the house I pass the time listing vehicles passing by, and now move the list from my front page to here so the list of patrons may remain with this book.  Maybe this will remain as well.

East to east, my count is  7 trucks, 1 suv, 1 van 3 cars and no bikes.
West to east my count is 3 trucks, 1 suv, 1 car and 3 bikes.

Two more arrivals.  The sun comes out.  The dog barks again.

A small plane flies over.  The sound brings me back to parking cars for the boy scouts during U of M football games.  The planes always trailed some advertising banner but I can't remember who's.

A stronger gust as visitors survey the vegetable garden down by me.  Comments of onions and potatoes.

The sun peaks out again.  The rooster crows.  Possibly fooled by it's sudden appearance.

What I earlier thought was a tractor must be a milk house fan or something because I've just noticed that the sound isn't moving.  Check it out later.

The sunflowers in the vegetable garden across the road from em are wonderful.  A van goes with cows in the background.

The cutters is wearing off, one of the billions of flies that have been eyeing me since I put it on finally dared chance it.  I think I got him.  Let that serve as a deterrence warning.  It may work.  But they all have a lean and hungry look and they just keep staring.

The sun reappears for the third time.  The clouds in the distant northwest are now more white blue then gray.  Perhaps we'll survive the day dry.  The bloodhound comes to visit, growls, but then is pacified by my soothing tone and non threatening looks.  A few pats and drools and she leaves to growl at a bird on the power line. 

Two tourers in a jetta leave after having said they enjoyed me in noah.  Asked the time as I am timeless.  There is a siren in the distance, from the west on 35.  What a rare occurrence.

Greg, daughter and puppy stop and chat for a moment.  One of those flies just got me on the ankle.  Perhaps time for another application of the cutters. 

All visitors, so far, have arrived from the east.  Interesting.  The noon siren goes off as the farmer & friend return.

Three bicyclists go by.  The sun returns.  Sharon brings lunch.  The bites become more distracting.  Apply after lunch.

The cows have come down to the road in search of what ; greener pastures.  There's nothing but mud.  They occasionally look at me.  I look back.  Stand off.  Luckily there's a electric fence, actually tow, between us or I'd be in trouble.

The farmers daughter throws flowering broccoli heads to the cows.  Perhaps they knew this treat was coming.  The steers run to the fence on my side of the drive.  Expectations?  The sun is out and it is becoming hot.  The ski in the west is clearing.  I pity the 1-5 shift.

One of the cows has made it into the no mans (cows) land between the two electric fences.  I am beginning to fear for my life..  but my shift ends................