Last year, the farmer that rents the majority of the acreage at our farm planted a crop of soy.
While mildly inconvenient, the soy only grows 2'-3' tall, and the farmer didn't plant the very back section of the property near the pond, which is where I prefer to do my flatwork. There was still enough space around the perimeter of the fields to do conditioning work, and life generally went on as usual last summer.
In late spring when the corn first went in the ground, things were okay. The tiny baby cornlettes didn't take up too much space, and I could happily school and hack out anywhere I liked on the property.
Now it's August, and the godforsaken corn is a veritable forest of horrors.
It towers over my head when mounted, and has transformed my grassy galloping lanes into dark tunnels in which lurk beasts of all descriptions, and most likely also demons and that alien from Signs.
The corn stands so tall and so thick that it's impossible to see what may be hiding between the stalks, and we have been ambushed by everything from baby deer to foxes, bunnies, and woodchucks. It makes an ominous rattle every time a breeze blows through, and my normally steady pony is constantly on-edge and wary of the possibility of tigers and/or aliens emerging from the corn to grab us.
This year, our enterprising farmer friend also planted right to the very edge of everything.
There is no flat back field by the pond for dressage.
There are no wide galloping lanes along the edge of the woods.
While we did mow out a big rectangle in the middle of the back field, it's still quite sloped which can make dressage work difficult, and the weeds grow up so quickly and so thick that even attempting to ride there can be dicy some days.
Plus, in this rectangle of bare land we've managed to eke out, you are surrounded on all sides by The Corn, and who can concentrate on leg yields and transitions when you're braced for the attack of He Who Walks Behind The Rows?
You can't. You just can't. The corn is ruining my life.
So here we will be, ring-bound and living in fear until harvest time, waiting for the day when the corn will be cut down and we will have our land back again.