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The neighbors are getting serious about taking in the rest of the corn while the last of the warm, dry weather lasts.

They’re working 18-hour days with combines and huge trailers to chop down, grind up and haul off the corn that’s been surrounding us since late spring. It gets fermented and turned into silage (a French work, actually. Can you say, “See-lahzh?”).

And each morning, the topography of my bike ride changes … Where yesterday there was an eight-foot tall wall of corn, today, there’s a stubble field.

Sure makes the place look different …

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