The Press at Sunset!

Sometimes in farming everything goes well, this is normally the prelude for a disaster! There is nothing more soul-destroying than blocking up disc-wheels when cultivating after a period of uninterrupted flow. The machine has lulled you into a false sense of security and well-being and then ‘Wallop!’, the large steel discs at the rear block up with mud! On our clay soil any wet patch will bring forth the claggiest lumps that you’d have trouble separating from a carpet! There must be a scientific application…

Things are going well,
you’re working the land.
That’s time for everything,
To get out of hand.
You drive through a wet patch,
chancing your luck,
the disks stop turning,
They are blocked up!

Out of the cab,
grab spade and a bar,
it’s worse than it looks
the worst blockage so far!
Some time later,
It is now dark,
You’ve chipped out some soil,
have you made your mark? 

You try moving again,
How far, will it go?
You soon discover,
The answer is No!

So it’s out with the spade…!
© Baldock Bard 2016
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