Rising early to be in the hop garden by 7am, I watch the sky turn from breath-taking red striations to a crisp September blue. It's rained heavily overnight and the hops are drenched and soon I am, too. Slowly, we make our way down the rows of hops, pulling and pressing the bines into the trailer. I've been doing this on and off since student days: a time when families of Eastenders would still come down for their annual "holiday". These have long been replaced by a posse of family friends and work-focused eastern europeans, but little else has changed. Possibly my favourite time of year. Liberating and life-enhancing.
No comments:
Post a Comment