Bubba's Harley

The summer sunburned the back of his neck as he turned the old John Deere pulling the hay cutter.  He swung in tight as he lined up to make another pass into the yellow, waist high grass.  In 1936, Rayburn “Bubba” McGahay was 18 years old and already a full-grown man.  He was slender and as hard as a rock.  He stood six feet even, though he looked much taller.  His dark brown hair brandished reddish highlights that were pronounced in mid-summer and would diminish by Christmas.  It was two in the afternoon and 98 degrees in the shade.  Heat waves danced across the horizon daring the wind to rise up and challenge them. A red tail hawk soared 100 feet above him while egrets swarmed in behind the machine gobbling up young grasshoppers left exposed as the cutter revealed their hiding places.  Suddenly the hawk tucked his wings and dove to the field like a missile, hitting his target.  A large field mouse was pinned to the ground as razor sharp talons bore in causing instant death.  Then he launched himself as his powerful wings carried him to the massive pear tree that stood guard at the northeast corner of the field.

This field had been planted in 1865 by Benjamin McGahay, Bubba’s grandfather.  Cutting hay in the front meadow since sunrise, Bubba had just one more pass along the split rail fence and he’d be finished with today’s top priority.  As he made his final left turn near the pear tree and aimed the tractor for the barn, he glanced over his left shoulder.  Looking through the menacing cloud of dust behind him, he gazed across the forty acres of freshly cut hay.  A smile slowly appeared as he wiped the sweat from his eyes with the sleeve of his well-worn khaki shirt. 

He crossed the gravel road called the Trace and cruised up the sandy driveway.  Twenty live oak trees lined the lane that led up to the front of their home. The trees were heavy laden with Spanish moss and formed a cool, shady canopy as the limbs touched one another in the sky.  Bubba slowed as he turned in the front yard and idled along to the big barn behind the house keeping the dust down.  Momma was in the backyard hanging out the wash and he knew he better go-slow.