There was a time when this field grew crops. Now it grows grass. Lots of grass that has to be mowed unless I want to grow dandelions and ragweed, which I don’t. If I had goats, they could eat the grass, and then I could eat the goats. If the coyotes didn’t eat them first. Apparently the farming on this land wasn’t so great, with a thin layer of soil above rock, so the previous owners retired the farm implements and left them to rust in small clustered islands. Islands I have to work around as I navigate the sea of grass with my riding mower.