Harvest Time

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?

   Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—

While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

   And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;

(from 'To Autumn' by John Keats)

                                                                                                                                                                      . . . and great activity locally harvesting huge quantities of Potatoes. Here a tractor awaits the return of the second tractor and trailer which collects the potatoes coming off the harvester.