starlings gathering
sparkling in low August sun
speckling wheat stubble
~
CLP 10/08/2022
Tag Archives: Harvest
on time
grain spilt on roadside
train rushes past fresh cut corn
harvest dust clouds air
~
n.b. It’s begun! Is this the best season of the year?
CLP 13/07/2022
On August
wasps sniff out sugar
hedges heavy with berries
thorns in our fingers
~
CLP 25/08/2021
On Trees
Gorged on ripe crop
Drowsy wasps crawl through orchard
Expectant boughs ache
~
CLP 13/09/2020
Following the Tractor
When the combine has cut through the wheat,
The bailer tidied all loose ends
And The Downs have felt the drag of plough and harrow,
Swallows and martins scour the chalk field in hundreds
A restless gathering, swooping, sweeping low
From roadside wires and hedge tops
Assembling their collective will to flee
Our gloomy, damp, autumnal land
~
One flits by, teasing my unleashed hound
Another, passes that close to me
I hear its fine wings feathering the air
~
This strange summerâs end comes nigh
Marked by the breath of hirondelles brushing our crumbled turf
Their fleeting farewell kisses of Northern earth leave no mark
When they take temporary leave for Southern skies
~
CLP 30th August, 2020
Autumnal
On fields of decapitated barley, the hollow stubble full with last night’s rain, huge straw reels stand askew; great golden wheels left out to dry in the Sun, emitting a musty warmth, while fungi forms in dewy soil on which the geese reconvene to recommence their wintery discourse.
These large birds’ clacking beaks break into the day with husky talk in croaked, dawn-crack voices; the gabbling gaggle precedes the early calls of crows, blackbird and songs of rising larks, to signal our brief summer’s passing.
CLP 21/07/2020
October (III)
These last are not low hanging
But harvest them we must
Ripened on the upper boughs
The topmost, sun-blushed fruit
Balanced between earth and sky
We climb and stretch
To where they sit
Well nigh, just out of reach
If there’s a slip, they ricochet from branch to trunk to orchard floor
Gashed and bruised in descent
These will be the first we eat
The rest, the best, the sweetest
We carry carefully to the winter store
.
CLP 16/10/2019
On the Land
Stained hands lift and cut
Bunches settle in buckets
Pressing work ahead
.
n.b. This is harvest time and the urgent work cannot be rushed. The atmosphere is filled with the scent of the ripe crop. At the caveaux in Villette lunch is served to the teams of workers. One caveaux is noticeably more sociable, louder, heartier than the others. The equipe spilling into the street as a cheery group, shares “bon jour” happily, invitingly with we passing walkers.
The wine from a previous vintage we tasted in Villette was delicious. It tasted as the scent that filled the air as we had walked down through the vines of Lavaux.
n.n.b. There are three workers in the picture, carefully cutting the grape bunches from the vines.
.
CLP 06/10/2019
On August XXI
Now gone with all else
Held in cloudy memories
Bottled and pickled
.
n.b. The serious work has begun to collect the fruit, vegetables and crops from the summer. What must be gathered from the orchard floor and stored for winter; what can be collected from the vine and pressed; what can be cut from the plant and eaten fresh, or kept dry; what can be picked from the over-burdened trees and turned to juice, or pickled, or made to jams and chutneys; what can be best preserved frozen?
The stoves burn, jars are sterilised, temperatures carefully monitored; steam and sweetness fill the home. Hair tied back, aprons on while the heat in the kitchen turns us pink and sticky too during these long satisfying hours before labelling bottles and still warm pots and cleaning up in the company of curious wasps and to the buzz of frustrated flies.
.
CLP 01/09/2019
Ripe
Sea of barley
Heads dropped
Ears heavy
Blades need to be dusted off
Harvester readied
It’s time
And the wheat will be ready too
Soon enough
CLP 10/07/2019
Journey of Words 