I will go on a little bit about the field that is quite close to my apartment. When I got here in February it was fallow. I then spied a man working it with a large motoculteur, which I believe is rotivator in English but for me these machines will always be motoculteurs. He broke it up nicely and then painstakingly built up drills. One morning on my way to work I spied him. He was shuffling along the drills planting by hand. I returned in the evening and he had almost finished planting the whole field. Which reminds me of a joke.
In the jailhouse.
Paddy Ugly, “What are you in for?”
Paddy Sweet, ” I dug up a couple of praties and the landlord caught me eating them. I got two weeks.” “What about you?”
Paddy Ugly, “I got life for rape.”
Paddy Sweet, “Crivens! You must have eaten the whole field!”
So the photo above was taken a couple of days post planting. Immediately post planting the little plantings were all weak and floppy – would they make it? Obviously yes, but little did they know that far to the South; gathering its brows like gathering storm, nursing its wrath to keep it warm, was typhoon Sogda.
The wind burnt the fledglings beyond hope.
The man put in I do not know how many hundred plants by hand. A week later they are destroyed. I mean, it’s not fair. Isn’t there some kind of tribunal he could complain to? What is the Government going to do?
This morning the same blasted plants are kicking out the old pessimism and are bursting into life. Forgiveness and redemption.



