Yesterday, then, we finally waved goodbye to the wheat. The combine harvesters churned all day in the sunshine (yes, it really was hot - the first day this bloody summer) then later the balers bumbled round like mammoth beetles depositing gargantuan chunks of compressed straw all round the place. As ex-townies, we thought this was fabulous, and certainly the most excitement that’s come our way for a while. The farmers, on the other hand, were obviously a bit perplexed at their over-enthusiastic audience, and looked a bit worried when we started taking pictures too.

Later, when all the machinery had gone, we went outside to inspect our newly manufactured patch of stubble. If you’ve never seen a newly harvested field, you probably wouldn’t know that there’s an awful lot of ‘roadkill’ involved. The bottom field, especially, looked like the aftermath of some kind of frog versus field mouse Battle of the Somme, with bits of bodies strewn everywhere.

Bertie thought it was all fantastic, and made it his mission to sniff each dismembered body and pee on every single bale before sunset, which was, by the way, the most beautiful, purple-stained sky you’ve ever seen. Yep, we’re going to miss this place.

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