‘PELAGGO’ field

Posted on: 16th November 2012 No Comments

Following on from the last blog post here is some more text and some beautiful sketches  by artist Louise McClary-

On the other side of the road, not on the riverside, is “PELAGGO ” field. It seems this field used to be two fields, ‘Pelaggo’ and ‘Bens Pelaggo’…

'Palaggo field' before harvest

‘Palaggo field’ before harvest

I have been walking this field for 17 years, through the seasons of cabbages then in daffodils for three years, back to cabbages, now wheat. The combine came and I watched the wheat being chomped up, five buzzards circled and pounced on poor unsuspecting mice.

The dust and noise from the combine was incredible. Andrew Hosking said “imagine without a cab…”and told me his uncle would come home black after a day in the combine harvester.

These little sketches are of the day the combine harvester came on September the 13th. Halonowethfarm-pelaggofield3

Halonowethfarm-pelaggofield4Louise has also been doing some research using tythe maps. These are great as they show old field names, revealing more about the past of land. Here is what Louise has discovered-

“I have discovered the name of the field that is next to” Pelaggo,” which is a huge field backed with a wood, Andrew has always called this field ‘Trecoose’ field, simply because it is next to Trecoose (a collection of houses where Mr.Bean and large family have their fish shop and fishing enterprise). Looking at the map it looks like it was two fields.. so the first bit is Henna, then Great field, as you walk towards the village of St.Martin as it were. I have always thought the field’s odd as its broken up oddly with very stony ground somewhere between henna and great field.”

stubblefieldsHere is a photograph of ‘Pelaggo’ field taken by Louise in early November. After the combine has come the field is rewduced to stubble, as mentioned in this extract of John Clare’s poem

THE SHEPHERDS CALENDAR by JOHN CLARE 

NATURE now spreads around, in dreary hue,
A pall to cover all that summer knew;
Yet, in the poet’s solitary way,
Some pleasing objects for his praise delay;
Something that makes him pause and turn again,
As every trifle will his eye detain:
The free horse rustling through the stubble field;
And cows at lair in rushes, half conceal’d;
With groups of restless sheep who feed their fill,
O’er clear’d fields rambling wheresoe’er they will;
The hedger stopping gaps, amid the leaves,
Which time, o’er-head, in every colour weaves;
The milkmaid pausing with a timid look,
From stone to stone, across the brimming brook;

The cotter journeying with his noisy swine,
Along the wood-side where the brambles twine,
Shaking from mossy oaks the acorns brown,
Or from the hedges red haws dashing down;

Some more sketches by Louise- “the stubble corn now has much more green in it, with  some amazing almost purple hues in stripes, lots of black rooks circling and cutting shapes across the naples yellow stubble corn ..just beautiful ..”

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  1. Beautiful. Very moving words and paintings. Louise’s quality of attention echoes John Clare perfectly.

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