Country diary: wood pigeons gorge in huddles among the stubble

Sandy, Bedfordshire: There are rich pickings to be had as the harvested cereal fields simmer under a weakening sunLate in the summers of my childhood, black specks would fall out of the sky, floating in through my open bedroom window, snagging on the net curtains. Though we lived a good half mile from the nearest field, the charred shreds from stubble-burning made no distinction between town and country. Sooty showers rained down on suburban sensibilities year after year. Though people complained, nothing changed, for this was an age when farming sat in the social and political ascendancy.A quarter of a century after a nationwide ban on stubble-burning began, the cereal fields are left to simmer under a weakening sun. Many hot weeks ago, the combines came and the harvest was taken off. Gold expanses of spiky stalks were left in regimented lines with bleached debris beneath. But, even now, on warming afternoons, the dusty plenty of July wafts from the roasted aftermath of the crop. There is spilled wheat in the chaff, barley grains exuding malted odours beneath stiff-straight stems, and from every "bare" field, a toasty flavour on the nose. Continue reading...