More on: agriculture

Everything close enough fades  

in the coming dark; what’s at a distance, 
gone.

On Plough Monday, a “fool plough” or “white plough” was dragged about the village by young ploughmen covered in ribbons and other gay ornaments; they asked for pennies at every door and, if refused, they ploughed the ground before the cottage. _________________________________________________—Peter Ackroyd At the first breaking of ground we prayed heaven speed the plow,…