Sea of Green

A walk through fields of barley, agricultural blessings and the cottage life of a village stalwart...

Photo: Gary Firkins

The fields have grown wildly this past week and are now awash with colour.

Spikes on the winter barley emerged almost overnight forming an ocean of green. A lime haze hovers over the crop, which sways in the breeze like the swell of the sea.

A neat footpath, sprayed yellow in early March, bisects the field creating a parting of the waves. Lyra, my little companion, is now below see-level, her vision restricted by tsunamis of green on either side. She looks at me wondering where the vast expanse of open winter field has gone.

The hares that hid in plain sight in February and then boxed in the fields in March are now invisible, manoeuvring below the surface like submarines, ears up like periscopes.

My hand gently brushes the barley bristles. The awns are soft to the touch, like eyelashes on a cheek.

I stop by the wooden pole that carries a trinity of power lines towards Bisbrooke, taking my regular photo to compare the landscape and fields through the seasons.

Last year wheat, this year winter barley.

Planted in the autumn for a summer harvest and most likely destined for brewing beer, I wonder how the changing weather and the war in the east will affect the yield and price.

Lyra leads me on into the valley, wading waist-deep into the sea of green…

(For a short video of my walk through the barley field visit @rutland_country_life on Instagram)

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Rogation Sunday

Photo: Gary Firkins

Traditionally, it is agriculture that is contemplated on Rogation Sunday.

Last weekend, villagers were invited to a special service at the church.

“Rogation Sunday, of course! How lovely… Remind me, what is that, precisely?”

I may not have been the only person sending up a Google enquiry to the cloud, seeking answers.

The Book of Common Prayer definition of Rogation is: “The three days preceding Ascension Day, especially devoted to asking for God's blessing on agriculture and industry.”

So, after coffee, cheese scones and blueberry muffins at the church warden’s house, a chatty band of parishioners processed to the church for a service that involved readings and hymns, inside and outside.

In warming spring sunshine in the churchyard, prayers were said for those who work on the land and at sea, the granting of a good harvest and the prospering of those engaged in commerce.

Entering stage right, a Tesco home delivery van trundled its way up the sunken lane passing below the noses of the congregation who had turned to bless neighbours’ gardens.

Who, we wondered, had received ‘Quality food delivered fresh to your door’ this morning?

Back inside the church, having warmed ourselves up with the familiar ‘Morning has Broken’ (see Sunrise Saunter), we concluded with a rousing old favourite, ‘Great is They Faithfulness’.

Afterwards, we stayed to chat, sip coffee and nibble on lemon drizzle cake, the crumbs of which will have sustained the church mice for a week.

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The Stalwart

Over coffee at the end of the service, I went to talk to an elderly gentleman seated in his regular pew near the front of the church.

Mark (not his real name) is 87 and he and his wife celebrated their 64^th wedding anniversary this week.

The couple are, as they say, stalwarts and have been pillars of village life.

We chatted for a while and wandered back together to the cottage Mark and his wife have shared since 1979, but which has been occupied by her family for generations.

Her father was sent from Rutland to the Home Counties during the First World War to train horses for deployment to the Continent. While away from home, he met the daughter of an inn keeper, married her, settled and eventually became the innkeeper himself.

Mark and his future wife went to schools in the same Home Counties town and although pupils at the girls’ and boys’ schools weren’t supposed to meet, Mark would tip his cap to his future wife across the street. He’d then meet her for secret walks along the canal.

They married and became teachers and eventually settled in Rutland, moving to the home they have lived in since. Two older ladies, relatives of Mark’s wife, had previously occupied the cottage, which were two separate cottages connected via a door. One had a kitchen, the other had a bathroom and the two women shared the facilities.

Mark and his wife are getting on now and although they have rambled miles around Rutland over the years, mobility isn’t so easy these days. But you’ll always see Mark making his way determinedly down the lane to church.

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