A Long Walk in the High Hills by A Long Walk in the High Hills- The Story of a House a Dog & a Spanish Island (retail) (epub)

Author:A Long Walk in the High Hills- The Story of a House, a Dog & a Spanish Island (retail) (epub)
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ebury Publishing
Published: 2009-06-04T04:00:00+00:00

It’s a good time of year to get to know Kendi. It’s cooler now and soon the ‘second spring’ will come when the seeds that have lain dormant through the hot summer sprout and shoot up with the rain. Everything in the valley will turn a fresh bright green but first there is a harvest to reap. The pomegranates, fat and rosy, are about to tear and fall. Figs turn from green to ripe black almost overnight. It’s also almond picking time. The soft shells of the almonds, like the pomegranates, have split and will soon spill hard kernels on the ground. I shake off the cobwebs covering the roll of green net in the shed, unfurl it around the trees like a carpet and tickle the almonds with a long cane to encourage them to tumble into it obligingly.

I’ve set aside the next few days to try and pick as much fruit as possible but the morning I set off to pick up Kendi again a white, gauzy blob has suddenly appeared, swinging from a branch of the pine tree at my back gate. I know exactly what it is. The dreaded processionary caterpillar has arrived and woven its nest on my lovely tree. Soon zillions of them will be on the march, which means if I don’t take immediate action, the tree will die. I can see they have already chewed their way along one large branch so if I can saw it off along with the nest, I may be in with a chance.

First though: Kendi. I have a bit of a struggle with the lock on her door but suddenly it gives, the key turns and I’m in, the sun penetrating the gloom where sacks of corn for chickens and beans are stacked along with old farm implements and buckets of eggs. Gruesome-looking muzzles and goat bells on leather collars hang from nails hammered into the wall. Kendi is quivering, excited to see me, but as I go to untie her, something scurries over my sandalled foot. When I look again, it’s a rat, a proper rat. Horrified, I see they’re everywhere.

The moment we’re back at the house I’m in the right frame of mind to vent my wrath on the caterpillars. Kendi doesn’t know what to make of me shinning up the pine tree dressed in shorts and T-shirt and armed with a handsaw. She’s sitting on her haunches, ears corkscrewed, waiting as I attack the branch, my back wedged against the trunk, trying hard not to do myself a mischief. The soft resinous wood soon cracks, taking the nest and branch crashing to the ground with all the caterpillars on board. Instantly I feel better.

As I drag the debris to the middle of the field Kendi follows at a distance. She’s obviously had experience of this kind of thing and is not going to get too close. I can see by her expression that she never thought this was a good idea in the first place.

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