Mons, before the champagne district, northern france
The golden land seems to go on forever. The season has been too dry. The bails are already cut and stacked. Fantastical straw architecture, often so ambitious, reminds of an evening long time ago in England. Guy stopped the car and ran into the field. He said he always dreamed of rolling the great drum bails. I was so afraid some one would come, I think in this time I was always afraid. But he was so happy and he was right. A Long time ago.