Isn’t memory a funny thing? Some days, I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast. Then, there are those days when a memory from the distant past comes rushing back, unannounced and unexpected. For me, these types of memories are usually the product of some sort of trigger. Sometimes, it’s a piece of music, or maybe an image. More often than not, it’s a smell. As a farmer, there’s no more powerful trigger for me than the smell of fresh cut hay. One smell of a freshly cut field, and I can be taken back to a million different moments. It might be to the summers of childhood, playing on the farm. Or, to the two am harvests of my young adulthood. Whatever it is, the memories are always pleasant, and I’m so happy to have them. So, what about you? What are your triggers, and where do they take you? I hope it’s somewhere as pleasant as a field of freshly cut hay.