Not long ago we got new regular guests. They arrived with the caravan on a trailer just on the day that autumn decided to fall – and made an overwhelming entrance that day!
Autumn had come in violently, but apparently that had been a joke, for it instantly turned into an elegant, gentle, beautiful ripe version of herself, dispensing walnuts, tomatoes, millions of pounds of rice, beautifully colored leaves, and gentle caressing breezes.
It clicked. It clicked between us, between the Termas and them, and between their caravan and the Termas
But, life is tough, and they had to go back to Belgium. Two weeks of vacation at the end of summer to regain enough physical and mental strength to survive the northern winter.
The caravan has looked a bit sad since then, but since she is a lady, she holds up her appearances. It is harvest time, which is a comforting event because she will not feel so alone. Plenty of buzz in the fields.
Autumn in Portugal is a great time
Tractors drive back and forth, trailers with huge machines … just the other day I had to swerve sharply for a giga machine with medieval conical points on the front of the bumper. (if you call that a bumper on such a machine …)
About 7 threatening cones at the height of your bonnet – you go out of the way for that! What the farmers should do with that machine … I don’t have a clue.
You get used to swerving, or just respectfully stopping on the side of the road for such a machine
A supercutter, for example, 3/4-of-the-road big, cuts off thousands of kilos of raw rice in a day as if it were a slice of sausage. In addition, a tractor with a trailer behind it is usually waiting patiently on the side until the supercutter is full, and can spit its load out above the bucket. The driver of the tractor then hurries off. To an even larger storage, or sometimes directly to the rice factory.
The supercutter happily continue cutting, leaving a trail of straw farts
The neighbour of the fields behind us has often offered that straw for the animals: “Toma, Helena! Há muito!”
Yes, thank you for the offer, Josué, but I can already see myself with my wheelbarrow on those bumpy fields. That seems a very sad sight to me and I would feel like such a poor old lady from a fairytale, who has to gather wood because otherwise she will freeze to death.
A bit as sad a picture as that lonely caravan
But it brightens up when it is towards evening. Then the farmers set their fields on fire to burn the straw that remains. That’s good for the soil. And it’s also good for your mood, because it is a beautiful sight, like at dusk, those running fires.