At first, annoyed I tried to brush it away, that tickle on my finger. But it was insistent. When I looked down at my hand I saw the piece of hay complete with a shaft of dried hulls where the seeds once were.
Then I held out my hand palm down, fingers spread, as a person might when showing off an engagement ring. And I smiled leaving the hay exactly where it was.
When I did look up there was Jon naked at the gate. He’d been taking pictures of how the sun was coloring the landscape as he does every morning.
“Look,” I said holding my hand out to him, “there’s hay in my ring.” He studied it a moment, then took a picture and asked me what it meant.
“It means I’m married to the farm,” I said, then touched my cold hands to his bare skin and kissed him.
(You can see the landscape photo that Jon took this morning here)