I have a 25 inch Ordnance Survey plan of the farm where I grew up and all the surrounding land and buildings. It dates from the 60s I think. I have just had it framed. All the land that my Mum and Dad farmed is shaded in pink. I can look at every building, field, lane and even a few houses on that map and visualise instantly what those lines and symbols look like in reality. I look at the plan and see it in 3D, in colour, in textures, even in smells and sounds. If I look hard enough I can even see people.
I can see the old gate posts in the huge field in the valley bottom. I see the flat bed trailer piled high with hay bales making its delicate way up the lane to the farm to be unloaded. I can see Mrs Fleming's house, Harry's cottage and Mr Gaythorpe's farm. I can see a family having their annual party out on the lawn and I can turn through 180 degrees and drink in the view.
There are cows plodding happily up from the hilly field to be milked and the smell of silage (not that bad actually) wafting into the farmyard. There is that line of prolifically fruiting blackberry bushes just over that wall and there is the trace of the footpath, leading up to the papershop. That's the big new red barn and all is green and all is my home.
When I took the plan out of its cardboard tube and handed it over to the picture framers I noticed the name of the farm written in my Dad's handwriting on the tube. The framers cut it out and have put it at the bottom of the framed plan.
My eyes watered to see all this before me.
No comments:
Post a Comment