The cycle begins again

I was woken this morning by the tractor passing my window
as ploughing started, so close that I could wave to the farmer.
Timed my dressing, to save both our blushes, with his
disappearance over the horizon and had bra and top on
just as the cab reappeared and grew steadily bigger.
Waited for it to diminish again before taking off my pyjama
bottoms and getting into my pants.
On his third pass I was decent.

Back and forth in great diagonal sweeps with a devoted
entourage of gulls, rising, falling, systematically
"field walking" with finds consumed and unrecorded.
Furrows, deep brown, contrast with the green and
baulks almost invisible as every foot is used, scattering
indolent gulls who move no further than absolutely
necessary so as not to miss a morsel.

The field has lain fallow since my arrival but this morning's
activity is encouraging.
If he's ploughing then there has been no change of land use.
For at least another season our solitude is safe and I can
watch the cycle of the farming year from start to finish
With the job done in less than two hours he makes his
final pass, glances, and waves an "au revoir".