“Canola Fields”
Sunday morning, May 5, canola fields glisten in the early light in the small rural town (population, 611) of Frenchburg, Kentucky, home to my father-in-law. In recent years canola has supplanted much of the tobacco production that flourished in the state for three centuries. Flowering canolas are profuse for several weeks in the spring and have changed the aesthetic of the landscape, perhaps not for the better but brilliant nonetheless, almost neon-like in the first weeks of May.
