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Friday, 9 March 2012

Rough Country

Scraps of Skylark song carried on a ragged wind. Lifting the cold iron gate. An overcoat tied up with baler twine. Rainbow puddles in the mud under the diesel tank. Cracked and calloused hands. Scraped knuckles.


Rat holes and poison under the asbestos sheets. Nettles grow up through the wire. Rusty buckets with broken handles. Bent and buckled oil drums full of dirty water. Chickens scratch and cackle and skitter over the muck heap.


Click-click goes the electric fencing around the pig field. Old sows grovel up everything in the trough. Snort and splutter in appreciation. Rough bristles under the hand. 


Tools for the job: club hammer, rip saw, crowbar, tin snips, mole grips, WD40 and the big adjustable.


Tractor ruts filled with hardcore. Thistles push up through the cracks in the concrete road. Sparrows feed on the hedgerow berries. Bert's new gate won't shut properly. "Blow me, boy, reckon I wuz thinkin' in metric!"


Hoppers and silos. Grain augers and driers. Dusty cobwebs in every corner. Hessian sacks hung over draughty windows. Noise of motors and machinery.



Bale strings hung from a nail. Bags neatly stacked. An old radio on top of the wall. Crackles into life if you tap it. The shipping forecast. Next to it a calendar from years ago - "Beautiful Britain". 


Spent cartridges lie near the spinney. A chain saw sings in the distance. Crows fly over cawing darkly. Time to finish in half an hour. Hundreds of starlings sail across the setting sun. Red sky burns behind the bare trees. Should be another fine day tomorrow.


Take care.
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13 comments:

  1. Carole M.9 March 2012 at 22:24

    Delightfully narrated, somewhat poetic. There is a story behind old and worn out, tired and ugly afterall. Enjoyed the colour in the tractor ruts the textures with with the rustic corrugated iron and ivy clinging there.

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  2. Unknown9 March 2012 at 22:51

    Beautiful England :)
    I really love your picture of hoppers an silos!
    Enjoy!

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  3. John @ Beans and I on the Loose9 March 2012 at 23:48

    I like the ivy against the rusty backdrop.

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  4. Jack10 March 2012 at 00:19

    I don't know what I am seeing in the fourth photo, with the bright colors and peeling paint, but I love the image. Very poetic text today.

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  5. Wayfarin' Stranger10 March 2012 at 00:50

    Except for the house in the first photo, it could have been a local farm. Splendid writing, John.

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  6. Jane the Booklady10 March 2012 at 07:42

    Hello John, You have summed it up all perfectly. I have seen farms like that all my life. And the photographs are just right. Jane x

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  7. Rosie10 March 2012 at 09:00

    Wonderful photos and words to accomapny them. So descriptive of how hard and relentless making a living out of the countryside can be for many people:)

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  8. Scott10 March 2012 at 13:04

    The image of the ivy growing up the rusty corrugated iron is inspired. Thank you!

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  9. it's me10 March 2012 at 15:24

    a bit of melancholy --old farms slide into disrepair and old farmers try to hang on--I see it here, too--sad to watch it happen--good photo essay

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  10. The Weaver of Grass10 March 2012 at 15:51

    That ivy growing up that rusty shed is fantastic and worthy of a prize John. Love the decrepit buildings - we have plenty of them round here too. (not on our farm I hasten to add.)

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  11. Anonymous10 March 2012 at 20:20

    Such beautiful shots, John... and your words make them convey even more...

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  12. jennyfreckles11 March 2012 at 21:49

    Wonderful writing and photos. So evocative. There is a book to be made of photos of rust, I'm sure.

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  13. John "By Stargoose And Hanglands"13 March 2012 at 18:21

    Thanks for all the comments. The fourth photo is part of a wheel on an old piece of machinery that's been re-painted a few times!

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Thanks for taking the time to comment. I'll try to answer any questions via a comment or e-mail within the next day or two (no hard questions, please!).