I have been living at the farm for now, let me think, about a year.

They call it a farm, but it is a farm like no other that I have lived at.

I have not seen much of crops here, though in the last two months, the owners have been planting some in the shade.

I have not seen farmers either – at least not the type of farmers I’m acquainted with. The farmers here appear more like engineers. They talk different. They work different.

Sometimes, I see men in coats and ties and shining shoes. How, I ask you, do coats and ties and shoes belong to a farm!

Lest you think I’m complaining, oh! please banish such thoughts. This farm is so comfortable – there is lots of shade, lots of poles to run around and they even have a large structure full of metals and wires right next to it where I some times fool around with joy.

The main thing about this farm appears to be the stuff that runs on top of me – rows and rows of them. I have never been good at math, but there surely must be a few thousands of these. They seem to move all through the day, as if they wish to greet sunlight in a rather direct manner.

Now, one thing this farm has in common with many other farms I have lived in is the use of lots of water. But I am almost inclined to think that these things need water not to grow but to remain clean! What absurdity, but there it is.

Oh, and all the big people who frequently come in large cars to inspect the farm as if there is something really new about it…

Now, now, I’m talking too much. I can see the project manager coming along with the electrical engineer. They are approaching the thing on top of me. It appears it is not working properly. They are saying that it is not generating electricity. 

Let me move on, friends. I do not wish the manager to see me, just a tiny squirrel, chewing at the cables.