Marjorie

Marjorie smiled at me yesterday.

From Hydraulic Systems to Fishfingers

These questions, like germinating seeds, sprouted pleasantly in my head. And, I was filled with reverence at the thought of those fine engineering minds that can devise such things as hydraulic systems,coupling devices, telescoping shafts, power take off,power steering, the internal combustion engine and all the features that make today's tractor the agricultural icon par excellence. Names like John Deere and Massey Ferguson crossed my mind, and I dwelt on humankind's extraordinary ingenuity in taming nature and securing a steady supply of cereals for our breakfast tables, wheat for our flour-mills and ketchup for our fishfingers.

Tractor Thrills

What is it about a tractor in motion that gets the old ticker racing? Is it the pneumatic splendor of those mega-treads undulating purposefully over an uneven landscape? Is it that heady smell of high-viscosity engine oil and diesel? Or,is it the low-pitched grunt of its powerful motor as it sinks a deep furrow into a yielding field?

Bliss

Once I'd adjusted to this more earthly reality, I became aware that, miraculously, the mist had lifted. It had been replaced by a watery sun that hung cheerily in a now amazingly clear sky. A sense of utter wellbeing took hold of me. I seized the moment, and unwrapped my sandwiches; bit into the layers of mustard and local sausage and eased their passage down my oesophagus with a dash of the lively stuff from my hip flask. I gazed at the fields and the tractor's slow, purposeful motion -
absolute bliss, I thought.

Amazonian Potpourri

I whirled and whirled, oblivious of time and at one with nature - or at least, the nature of Yaxham and its environs. I was a bird in flight, circling the skies above; I was a shaft of light radiating from a dazzling sun; I was a giant whirlpool spinning in the midst of a vast turquoise ocean; I was carefree; I was uplifted. Alas, I was eventually ushered down from this exalted, spiritual high by the sight and smell of a tractor navigating in precise patterns a patch of farmland and texturing it with a thick and pungent organic, animal-waste-based fertilizer - that would have knocked the whirl out of even the most committed of Dervishes and sent him in a frenzied search for the nearest Body Shop and the Amazonian strength potpourri shelf.

Spiritual Awakening On The Road To Yaxham.

I whistled and whistled the tune over and over again, each time with greater intensity until I was in a total 'Popcorn'-induced, joyful delirium. I even started beating out an accompanying rhythm on the taught tinfoil, stretched tightly over my sarnies -which had not only allowed me to economise on the quantity of foil used, but also now provided me with a marvellous percussion instrument into the bargain. I lost all track of time possessed, as I was, by a trance-like state. I was aware of the sharpness of the morning air, astringent against my face. The effect was utterly invigorating and I now began to whirl to the sounds I was creating, slowly at first then faster and faster until I became an East Anglian Dervish, soaring up to a higher plane of emotional and spiritual experience, somewhere on the road to Yaxham.

Whistling Down The Lane

However, being of a stubborn disposition I persevered with my walk and took off down a misty country lane. Lost in thought, I waded through the mist, occasionally straining my eyes to make out a distant outline of a tree here, a fog-bound hedge there. And every now and then, the lit headlamps of a car could be seen making sharp incisions into the opaque, cloudy mass that hung about everywhere. Truth be told, I felt happy in my misty cocoon, shrouded from the real world beyond with its frenzied offices, wheezing doctors' surgeries, tedious supermarkets and all the dysfunctions of modern society. Yes!I was momentarily seized by a feeling of total contentment, so much so, that I spontaneously began to whistle 'Popcorn' to myself.