Ah, the sweet moment of harvest...
There is a smell at this time of year, a mixture of the smell of grain (or graIN as they say in the South), of straw certainly, of mechanics, of sweat perhaps.
Since childhood, the harvester, the 4x4 or the tractor that transports the cut is filled with this smell for a month.
The days are long but they pass.
Can start early if field is not too wet.
May finish late as long as the #Mediterranean breeze doesn't make it too humid.
During this period, time, minutes and heat are of little importance.
The fatigue is there and strangely not at all painless, just like during the grape harvest.
During this harvest period, almost every evening the barbecue burns the vine shoots and the sausage.
Wine frees the spirit of the day, to each his own color.
And then in the background, Marie Laforêt sings to the harvests of our hearts...
Next track, the harvest of love?