When you live a stone’s throw from the rice fields, sooner or later the time to harvest comes. And we are there. To assist and observe.
There are rudimentary threshing machines which cut the sheafs of wheat.
Men and women gather with the scythe the most stubborn spikes.
Bent under the sun, all working with relentless pace.
A truck moves from field to field level, on the narrow main street.
The bales of hay are placed on the sides, weighed and brought up, with difficulty.
The sun slowly falls horizon and a refreshing breeze coming from the sea.
Another sunset illuminates the island of Gods, while skilled hands conclude an ancient work, handed down for centuries.
Backstage of photos n. 5:
S: “My Love is better if you put your sneakers? Last time you’ve been stuck with the flip-flops in the mud of the paddy …”
P: “No, don’t worry … !!”
S: “Eh, eh…” 😂😂😁😁
Photo No. 9:
Find the intruder!
Solution in the picture n. 10.