How far would you go for dinner?
To the end of the road? to the end of the track? to the end of the mountain range? for there…high up in the sky is a farm. Here dinner becomes elemental and life-affirming.
To a farm, gazing out quietly, no one welcomes you, only the length of trestle tables gives any indication of expectation.
The goats are on the loose, the kittens are friendly and the pigs are in their sty.
You take your seats where you find them, as the tables fill up with the bourgeois, some boho-chic and plenty of bonhomie.
Platters start arriving, simple and delicious.
The goats know its dinner-time too and the ensuing mayhem is definitely part of the entertainment.
as they get in on the act…
To children’s amazement.
Afterwards calm is restored by the setting of the sun, it’s mythical. Primordial. We all watched spell-bound by a daily wonder.
Children play, adults linger and then the doors open and the next course arrives, fresh from the farm.
Plates are wiped clean, glasses raised and a feast completed.
I’d go a long way.