A touch of green on the lower plough-field: County diary 100 years ago

Originally published in the Manchester Guardian on 2 December 1916

Surrey, November 30
A night frost made everything appear in the early morning as though it had been covered with a light fall of very fine snow. But when this melted with a slight shift of wind a touch of green came across one of the lower plough-fields. It is not a large stretch of land - the farmer calls it "a patch of corn," - harrowed and sown, broadcast by hand while the surface was rather soft for a drill. There is always pleasure in the sight of these first shoots: you note their coming from one side just where the faint light of the sun strikes about noon, then cross to the other side and wait to see birds fly over from the meadow, where the tops of the grass here and there have withered to a dull brown. A farm hand is lifting swedes in the turnip field and trimming off the green tops with a bill, packing them in sacks for market. When this old labourer pauses for a rest he chops a root asunder, tosses half to a heifer that has come inquisitively across from the barnyard, cuts off a slice for himself, nibbles, pulls up his sheepskin gloves, and sets to work again. The afternoon turns grey and raw, and the wind is mournful in the bare elms. While a few small flakes are tossed in various directions a missel thrush starts his first song from the extreme branch of a pear tree by the orchard. It is but a few notes at a time with long pauses between, but it enlivens us all just here about the farm.