Black + White

Hayfield

In mid-August, Ontario hayfields undergo a dramatic transformation. The once-waving stalks of grass give way to neat rows of round and square bales, patiently waiting to be whisked away to market or stored for the winter.

Amidst this orderly sea of bales, one roll seemed to have missed the memo about maintaining appearances.

While its neighbours stood tall and pristine, this lone rebel appeared to have had a rough day, leaning over and looking as if it had given up on the whole "neat and tidy" business. It almost seemed to be wistfully longing for a return to its humble beginnings in the soil, as if to say, "I've done my time in the spotlight. Time to go home and once again get cozy with Mother Earth."

Hayfield

In mid-August, Ontario hayfields undergo a dramatic transformation. The once-waving stalks of grass give way to neat rows of round and square bales, patiently waiting to be whisked away to market or stored for the winter.

Amidst this orderly sea of bales, one roll seemed to have missed the memo about maintaining appearances.

While its neighbours stood tall and pristine, this lone rebel appeared to have had a rough day, leaning over and looking as if it had given up on the whole "neat and tidy" business. It almost seemed to be wistfully longing for a return to its humble beginnings in the soil, as if to say, "I've done my time in the spotlight. Time to go home and once again get cozy with Mother Earth."