It’s that time of year in The Shire: the farmers have
started trimming their field hedges. Soon the riot of summer raggedness will be
a thing of memory until the same time next year. The hedgerows will be neat and
orderly again, although the same can’t be said of the lanes which become
liberally covered with leafy and woody detritus in the process.
Next it will be muck spreading, and then the environment will
take on its true autumn character. The sweet and earthy smell of cow dung will
be all-pervasive, irrespective of whether you’re downwind or not. And the lanes
will become liberally covered with a different sort of detritus – a brown,
slimy sort. The muck doesn’t all go onto the fields, you see. Some of it
bounces out of the trailers and lands on the road. If it rains, it can even become
hazardous. Signs spring up on the verges every half mile or so, saying Warning: Slippery Surface. I suppose the
same might be said of Elvis Presley’s underpants.
2 comments:
Here I thought I was going to read this beautiful post about the coming of Autumn and I should have known better. Irony rules again and I guess I feel lucky I don't have to deal with all the shit piling up over there.
Well you see, Wendy, it's like this. Everybody waxes eloquent about golden leaves, swelling gourds and plumping hazel shells. I just like to complete the picture, that's all. Trimmed hedges and muck spreading are probably more visible (and olfactory) signs of autumn in a farming landscape than colourful leaves and berries. And just as enjoyable as markers of the turning year, I would say. I actually like the smell of muck spreading.
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