Hay for the Heifers

Reflection

Farm work looks noble from a distance, viewed through the softening lens of years gone by.

But it was just sweat, salt, and the inescapable gravity of a bloodline leading ahead of us on a rusted tractor seat. It was the kind of grit that settled into our joints and became part of our posture, a permanent inheritance.

It was an education in endurance, watching our Grandad’s back silhouette against the suffocating heat haze while my brother and I moved in a wordless, desperate rhythm below, reading each other's every breath because there wasn't room for anything else.

We learned early on that love between us wasn’t spoken. It was thrown, caught, stacked, and suffered through together. Yet, there was a heavy, almost sacred grace found at the barn at dusk, when the Massey finally choked out, the dust began to sink, and the pine shadows stretched long enough to let us finally clear our lungs.

This song is a reminder of those long afternoons left behind, side-by-side.

Lyrics

HAY FOR THE HEIFERS

The sun’s a red eye peeking o’er the Georgia pines
Grandad’s on the seat, keeping everything in line
That Massey belching out the blackest of smoke
If this baler misses ties, boys, it ain't no joke
The peanut vines are cured, they’re gold and dry
We’re kicking up a grit-cloud reaching for the sky

     Baling square bales in the heat and the haze
     Chasing down the harvest in a dusty-red daze
     Stack ‘em on the trailer, keep the corners tight
     Building up a mountain ‘neath the afternoon sky
     It’s hay for the heifers, it’s gold for the herd
     Sweating ‘til we’re finished, Lord, you have my word

That trailer’s getting long and it’s sagging in the middle
The dry vines are humming like a low-tuned fiddle
I’m standing on the edge, catching the bails on the fly
Dust in my throat and a sting in my eye
Grandad shifts a gear, we feel a jerk and a sway
We’re heavy-loaded, headed for the barn today

Back at the barn, the shadows stretching long and lean
The sweetest smelling hay-house that you’ve ever did seen
Back that Massey up, let the iron engine roar
We’ll stack ‘em to the rafters, all the way from the floor
The cows are in the lot and they’re bellerin’ low
They know that candy’s got the winter-time glow

Repeat Chorus

Yeah, stack ‘em high
Keep 'em square
Oh, that hay is everywhere
It’s hay for the heifers, gold for the herd

Copyright

Songwriter Note

I am a songwriter and a musician, but I'm not confident that I have the voice that's needed to inhabit these verses.

My hope is that these words eventually find an artist and storyteller to help me breathe life into them. If that collaboration never comes, I may record them myself rather than let them settle into silence.

Until then, they remain as they were born: quiet reflections on the grit, grace, and shadows just north of the county line.