The cycle goes on.

One harvest gathered in - now preparing for the next!
Every year when I see this stage - cutting up the stubble remaining in the ground - I am reminded of my first year here (1977) when, at this time of the year, there was an all-pervading smell of burning and a cloud of smoke with bits of ash, all over the village for several days as the farmers set fire to the stubble. I am glad I didn’t live in this house then as my back fence is just a metre from the edge of the field! The practice of burning the stubble was outlawed a year or two later and it is now chopped up and ploughed in.