With all the soaking rain that we have had in the last week, I wasn’t surprised to see the farmer next door earnestly preparing his fields. The sun was setting when I arrived back home to find the topless farmer chugging away on top of his red Massey Ferguson 268 tractor. For my non South Africa readers, in Afrikaans we would call a farmer, ‘n boer. Racing against the remaining light, the boer with his broad smile continued ploughing the land while I watched from the side.
In a way it was therapeutical just watching this basic component of our food chain, die boer op sy plaas in Afrika. Ja nee with the sound of the tractor, klap klap klap, my troubles became so distant.
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