The plough

But still, vor all the weather's feair,
Below a cloudless sky o' blue,
The bwoy at plough do little ceare,
How vast the brightest day mid goo,
Vor he'd be glad to zee the zun,
A-zetten, wi' his work a-done,
That he, at hwome, mid still injay
His happy bit ov evenen play,
So light's a lark
Till night is dark,
While dogs do bark, at hwome, O.

From Out at Plough by William Barnes

This field work is a little different today from when the above verse was written! Yesterday on this spot the maize harvester was ripping off and mincing up the maize plants and within the following twenty-four hours all change! The work was much quieter today than the madness of yesterday although we still had grain lorries arriving to be filled up by the JCB. (I forgot to mention we had four lorries yesterday in the middle of everything else! The carriers wont send articulated lorries down our steep hill so they send much smaller ones which take less.)

The maize pit is now covered with plastic sheeting and weighed down with old tyres. The weather has turned stormy and rain is on its way.