'Iron-clad Feather-feet, Pounding the Dust'

'An April's day, late in the morning.

Sweat embossed veins standing proud to the plough
Salt on a deep chest seasoning.

Last of the line at an honest day's toil
Turning the deep sod under. 

Flint at the fetlock, chasing the bone
Flies at the nostrils plunder.

The Suffolk, the Clydesdale, the Percheron vie,
with the Shire on his feathers floating.
Hauling soft timber into the dusk
To bed on a warm straw coating.

Heavy Horses, move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding - slipping and sliding free.
Now you're down to the few and there's no work to do
THE TRACTOR'S ON ITS WAY....'

Heavy Horses, by Jethro Tull.


Unless you're at one of the south's biggest Heavy Horse Event, that is where there were around 60 mega feather-footed beasties on show and in action! 

And the weather was (relatively) brill! And I'd not been since 2009!