My Farm in winter

It is winter, early morning on the peaceful farm, everything to be seen has a thick coating of frost glistening in the sunlight. The truck door is jammed, solidly frozen and being held securely in place by a layer of hard glittery frost. The icicles that have slept peacefully all night on the windscreen, although twinkling now, are still making it impossible to see out. It almost seems mean to try and scrape them off. Slowly, the sun does her job and awakes them. Watch their defrosting patterns slowly trickle down the windscreen in clear rivulets. Making their way off the glass and into a small river on the bonnet of the truck. The sun slowly starts to melt away the frost on the dense luscious green grass.

Listen. Listen. The dogs are barking ferociously into the fresh morning air, their sense of smell being alerted to the earth around them.  The fresh aromas of dawn are circulating through the air, reaching their nostrils and enticing them of what’s ahead for them on the farm. From the clean, fresh, crisp air of the morning through to the dusty end of the day depending on the weather, where they will want water and shade. They scratch at their cages and wanting to be let out and amongst the new day. 

As the morning starts, there is a dull throb and purr of the mighty diesel tractor doing its daily chores. It cruises up the road at a leisurely pace to refill its fuel tanks. Then after a short break, continues on doggedly and at an even and determined march through the field, ploughing and turning over the moist soft soil. The tracks it makes look like row upon row of brown ribbons snaking down the side of the hill. Fluffy dust clouds are being created by the tractor, puffing from its exhaust like a person is sending smoke rings into the air. As they float off into the distance, their elongated shapes take on a smoother look and disappear into the horizon as if they were never here. As the tractor drives up the road, a tiny, lost and very scared baby calves’ dominant ‘mooo’ can be heard over the dull throb of the tractor as it cries out for its Mum.  You can tell through the high pitched moo it wants the safety of its Mum. The old gnarled oak trees crusty leaves rustle in the aggressive wind. You feel as if it is trying to tell you something.

It is lunchtime. The high pitched screech of the farmer’s whistle is heard by all, as the farmer rounds up the dogs for a bite to eat. The ancient farmhouse is sitting there quietly in all its glory, absorbing the sun and warming its inner walls, before the coolness of the night starts to make its presence felt.  The sun shines down over the jaggered hills, smiling softly and calmly as everyone goes about their day. Inside the farmhouse, it is a different story, lunchtime has come around quickly and you feel like you are in a zoo, kids are running around and yelling like squawking birds, workers fight for their favourite spot at the table. Their hungry mouths watering in anticipation from the appetising smells of croissants and lamb as they fill the air. As everyone is fixated on their food they start to fill their hungry bellies and not worry about anything else. The kids fight over the last bit of food, while the workers lace up their muddy and oily work boots and head back out ready to get on with their work and finish the day.

Watch, the workers drive off in their muddy utes. You can feel the temperature steadily decreasing as the sun starts to decline from its highest point. The afternoon will soon be over, the sun will set behind the southern alps. Nightime will soon make its presence felt with the cool crisp winters air and darkness.

And then you will be rugged up on the rustic leather couch in front of the roasting fire, cheering on the All Blacks as they dominate another game at Eden Park.

Statement of intent

From this piece of writing, my aim was to try and create a picture/ story in the reader’s mind about what life on my farm looked and felt like during lunchtime, the early mornings and the sound of the tractor and dogs. I tried to give it the most detailed description I could. I tried to achieve this through the use of figurative language such as metaphors, similies and personification.