The wheat was finished ages ago, but we've been waiting for the beans in The Ley and Lakes to dry. Bill tested them last week and said they were as "soft as soup" but they finally dried out and were combined today.
I love this time of year when harvest is over and September begins. This summer seemed to alternate between rain and sun, which made harvest particularly difficult and unpredictable, so it's good to get back to normality now all the crops are cut. Far from the romantic notion of harvest conjured up by television and The Archers, no-one here has the time to drop into the local pub for lunch or sit in the field with a tea-time spread conjured up from a wicker hamper provided by a doting wife. It's more a case of wolfing down warm sandwiches and a melted chocolate biscuit in a spare moment and cursing because the Thermos flask has got stuck under the tractor seat again and shattered the inside.
September is about new beginnings whether the new shoes and pencil case of schooldays, new school or college, new netball season (surely we must win our division this year) or new crops in the ground. I love to open the back door in the mornings and breathe in the damp air with the slight smell of apples and that lovely earthiness when they're ploughing. The blackberries are ripe for picking, the autumn raspberries are so abundant this year I'm struggling to keep up and life is good.