It’s golden yellow.
It’s perfectly ripe.
It sways on the breeze and makes a dry rustling sound.
It smells faintly of Wheat Chex cereal.
And it’s ready to be harvested. Harland mentioned last night that he will probably cut the wheat on Friday, so I rushed out last night to get some last pics of it. I immersed myself in the field taking lots of pics.
I even laid down just to see what it looks like from that angle.
And I continued to lay there……just because. It was quiet except for the wheat rustling and the birds. (And then it occurred to me that I’d better make sure no one was going by on the road before I got back up again as it might appear odd to see a woman popping up out of a wheat field.)
I’ll be sad to see the wheat go.
But it’s ready be harvested.
And, “for everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.”