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Reminds me of my summer holidays which I spend on my grandparents' farm in Bosnia. It was so boring there, that I welcomed the manual and hard work on the fields.



I didn't think it would turn out this way at the time, but I miss scything and hay gathering so much, it has such a spirituality to it.

Nowadays, whenever I hear the whetstone touching a scythe in some remote region, my eyes well up.




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