Harvest time

The harvest is well on its way to being gathered in .I passed my wind rippled barley field but it is all gone . All that is left is stubble ; sentry like stalks standing stiffly to attention in orderly rows waiting to be ploughed back into the rich red Devon soil in Autumn . In our narrow lanes I regularly come nose to nose with the giant combine harvesters as they move from farm to farm . High above you is the cab with the driver , who looks barely old enough to hold a licence , almost daring you not to reverse out of his way . I have a feeling that the machine could gobble me up ,car and all and spit me out in a sealed black plastic roll only to be fed to some disdainful vegetarian cow in the depths of winter -what a way to go .In the hedgerows honeysuckle intertwines with strands of convolvulus with its giant Persil white trumpets .

Sunday was a quintessential summer's day .Sugar puff clouds in a blue sky and a gentle breeze . I took V to Killerton our local National Trust Estate to see the herbaceous borders which are in full bloom .There are wonderful views across rolling hills and in the distance the sound of bat on leather - all very satisfactory . But then I realised V could no longer see what I could see - not even the flowers if I directed her head . She has lost the ability to focus and her head is permanently bent down .All I could do was to describe the colours . It is interesting that we both used to see colours in a different way . To me red is red ,blue is blue yellow is yellow but V has a different palette . As an artist ,which she was , colours are magenta , cerise , burnt umber , mauve .My descriptions must seem so basic and crude . But I hope that in some deep recess of her memory she can conjure up an image, she can't tell me but surely there must be some spark left mustn't there ?

11 Replies

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  • Thank you for the beautiful and the sad images.

    I will go to bed with the beauty of August Devon and the loss of beauty for you and for her.

  • When you describe the beauty of a field even when using colors like brown instead of burnt sienna ...V can see it! I know I can...beautiful

    AVB

  • Positive there will be a spark there but sometimes it has to be very dark to catch that small spark.Keep talking I am sure it must help.Px

  • What a lovely description to wake up to. Thank you Georgepa. I take photo's on my iPad of Nat Trust gardens, coastline etc and put it in a position C's eyes can see it. I show it to him there and then if it isn't too sunny and his eyes are open. If not, wait until we get home when his eyes are wide open. Not sure how much he sees but he indicates he can.

    I think Autumn has arrived here. I've put my tshirt/vest back on again.

    Have a good day.

    X

  • Beautiful word picture of south Devon, thanks Georgepa. I relate to holding M's head to direct her limited gaze at sites, but not thought of colour loss.

    Tim

  • Thank you GeorgePa for the memory . I remember my visit to killerton". You reminded me of all the NationalTrust properties I have seen.

  • Once again capturing the moment Georgepa, can almost smell Autumn in the air from your vivid description. As for being devoured by a combine havester,Nell that makes you shudder. I truly hope that V is hearing and imagining the scene you set, keep on talking to her.

    Love and happy ramblings

    Kate xx

  • George can just imagine being there, so sad as well, just love your posts, sending you a big hug x

  • Oh this PSP Road is so sole destroying for everyone it touches, I'm sure your descriptions were just perfect for V

    Love Debbie xx

  • I TOO THANK YOU FOR THE WONDERFUL PICTURE YOU PAINT SO SAD THAT V CANNOT TURN HER HEAD TO SEE THINGS - I TOO AM EXPERIENCING THE SAME THING BUT MY FREDDDIE

    KEEPS ON AT ME TO STRAIGHTEN UP AND NOT TO LET MY HEAD DROP FORWARD

  • Wonderful picture in words, thank you Georgepa. V may not have sight to see it but I'm sure when you describe it she can visualise it in her mind. You have such a wonderful way with words. Lots of love, Nanny857 xx

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