Although when I was a girl, we lived in a very small house at the furthest
reaches of the town, most of our life was lived outside. Tractors were very
much a part of this life and I loved them.  They trundle beautifully about
our streets and whenever I see one, I always have an almost irresistible urge
to go out and pat it.

         TO A TRACTOR

Massey Ferguson.

A red tractor so lovely,
My hand stroked
Its scarlet glory.

Trundling across
The strawed ground,
Its great wheels
Dignified in every
Pleat and perfection.

An inspired creation.
A glorious construction.

Which, one day, I hope,
Will carry me home.

                ©2023 Gwen Grant


  1. I have good memories of a Massey Ferguson too! This one was left in what we called the woodshed – the extended hut that was operations central for the groundskeeper at Lydiard Park. (When the adjacent hutted camp was built as a wartime hospital for American troops post D-Day it had been used as a mortuary). The tractor did go out and about but I most remember it being used to power the circular saw used to cut up the felled trees for firewood which was then sold by the bushel to the families rehoused in the huts after the war.


  2. So glad you do. While I’m here, I have to tell you I love your blog. Wishing you a steady uneventful day!


  3. Do you know Swaledale? The track out of Keld, to Gunnerside, around the back of Kisdon, we holidayed up there in the 80’s & 90’s and there was the remains of one broken down. Every year a little less as bits got salvaged and folk took souvenirs. It took them a long time to get the big old steering wheel off, and I think some of it is still there. Just down the road from the lovely ruins of Crackpot Hall.


  4. I didn’t get the steering wheel. It wouldn’t come off, I’m sure we all tried, but it was there for at least 20 years, and we all had the chance to drive it! I think there’s still some of it there now.


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