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Saturday, September 6, 2014

MAKING HAY AND PAYING TAXES

FIELD  WITH HAY BALES ON HWY. 13, WEST OF RED CLIFF
Saturday, 8:00 AM.  57 degrees F at the ferry dock, 53 on the back porch. Wind WNW, light with moderate gusts.  The sky is clear, the humidity is 83% and the barometer is still trending up, at 30.08".  Fall is almost here and we have had no summer!  We have only eaten dinner on the back porch perhaps two or three times.
   As most Almanac readers know, the Bayfield region is mostly forested, primarily with mixed deciduous and coniferous northern tree and shrub species.  But there are farms and hayfields, some quite extensive.
   From a visual and aesthetic standpoint these fields provide a welcome contrast to the forest.  I also appreciate the cultural aspect of farmland; it says humankind has been here, still lives here, molds and refines the landscape with its presence.  The pastoral esthetic runs deep in the human psyche.
   I also am of the opinion that all land, ultimately, must prove its value not only in the economy of nature, but also in the economy of man.  So, I have been counting hay bales.   I am told $35 is the going price for the big round bales that have pretty much replaced the rectangular bales of  my youth, that could be lifted from the field by hand and tossed onto the hay wagon.  It takes a tractor with a lift arm to wrestle these around.  I have tried estimating acreage, counting the bales, and multiplying them by dollars per bale, but that is likely so inaccurate as to make little sense.  But if I did get a ballpark figure I would then have to multiply it by cuttings made this lush growing season, which I think has been three for most fields.  
   Anyway, suffice it to say there is a fair amount of money represented by those hay bales.  But then of course one has to subtract the expenses, which include labor, equipment, fuel, lime, marketing, delivery, etc.  But why bother with all this economic struggle?  Why not just let the woods engulf it all, sit back, and enjoy nature?  Well, besides the aesthetics, there is that ancient inevitable; taxes.
   Land in private ownership is taxed. Always has been, always will be.  Why? Civilization, with its enterprises of government, education, transportation, health and welfare...is expensive, whether measured in dollars, rubles, dinars, drachmas or shekels.  And if the land is owned by the government (as much of northern Wisconsin is) the money not collected in private land taxes has to be extracted from some other pocket of one's jeans.
   Of course the Indians and similar mostly nomadic peoples paid no land taxes to a governmental entity. But, think again.  They paid for the use of the land with their blood, in constant feuds and wars over who was to occupy what land.  So we have discovered herein a constant of the human equation: pay land taxes in money to a government whose obligation it is to hold it in protective trust for us, or in lieu thereof, pay with our blood in constant warfare with our nearby neighbors.
   So, when I see hay bales I see not only the stored energy of the sun which will feed the cattle that in turn will feed me; I see a historic, fundamental shift in the development of human society.  One way or another, we all must make hay.  And pay our taxes.

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