We Spend A Day in April Tearing Apart Tomato Trellis, Proving, Once Again, That things Are, Indeed, Cyclical

I am precluded, even, from referring to said structure as last year's tomato trellis, for it still stood, proud and tall, in the fields during this year. So, is there a this year and a last year, or are we all flowing through some sort of cyclical continuum. These things and more does one ponder as one pulls down tomato trellis six months too late.
I, of course, have an excuse that will stop dead in its tracks even a hint of personal blame. Yep. I have broken bones inside of me.
Today was also spent adding some deer protection to the strawberries, planted last September, which, of course, nececitated trampling o'er some of the spinach, planted last October, with a break to admire the garlic, planted, also, last October. All to be harvested in May, April and June, respectively. Again I find myself unable to demarcate between this year and last. Even long periods of snow, or a solstice, seem inadaquate devisions.
It's all one long merry-go-round ride, is the only conclusion I am able to draw, with regular opportunities to grasp the brass ring and occasional stops for cotton candy. The fields are in a constant swirl, with brassicas in the upper field now and the lower field later. Nightshades are here until they are there. Squash is everywhere, but never in the same spot twice. It rains. It dries out. It gets hot. It gets cold. We drive posts to hold tomato trellis, only to pull them back out again.