How Wet It Was, How Wet.

Back at the farm, everything is the same but much, much wetter. The seedlings are swamped and beset by slugs, the hay bales sit in stagnant water, the streams and ditches are overflowing with excess moisture.

And how does this make me feel? Drenched, wringing, sodden with sorrow, wretchedness and depression.



But enough of these pipe dreams, maybe it will be brighter tomorrow.