Der Fliederbaum - Geschichten_en_v3

The Lilac Bush

As far back as I can remember, we brought the hay in from the fields in wagons, and then it was blown into the hayloft. That was not without its dangers, because if one was not careful, the pitchfork could be shoved into the fan while loading hay. Also, whenever a stone got in, it made a loud bang! The fan was actually quite convenient, because you could blow the hay into every corner of the loft. No further work was needed. Because the hay was blown quite firmly by the fan, it was later never very easy to dig it out again from the stack in the loft. When you didn't do it right, or did it from the wrong side, it was a pretty tedious affair. Once you had the hay loaded, there was the ''Heuloch'' (a hole in the barn floor with a cover), through which hay was thrown down to the animals below. Once, I was not paying enough attention and I fell through the hole. Luckily there was already a lot of hay down below, and no pitchfork, so that I landed softly.

Eventually, our father, who had bronchitis, could no longer stand the hay dust. A high-pressure ''Heuhaggl'' was purchased. This small hay baler, towed behind the tractor, lifted the hay, made the bales, tied them, and then threw them into a wagon towed behind. The wagon was approximately 2.7 m (6 ft) wide and 3.5 m (11 ft) high. Once at the barn, the bales were loaded into the so-called bale lift. They went up under the length of the roof of the barn and were thrown off at the end. Because this conveyor belt did not extend all the way, the bales always created a mountain in the middle of the loft. To the right and to the left there was plenty of empty space. When the pile got too high, I had to go and stack the bales on either side. At about 45 °C (110 F) in the loft, it was quite hot and dusty, and very hard work. By evening, I was exhausted. I think I'd rather have gone swimming!

Driving the hay baler was not an easy task. The tractor, baler and wagon, hitched together, were about 45 feet long. Navigation or even reversing was a real art.

Late one afternoon, I was driving the rig home from the last meadow. We had already learned to deal with such vehicles, so this was not a problem. Because our driveway was a little narrow, I was careful to avoid the corner of the house on the right side. Here, I overestimated a safe clearance, and the front left side of the wagon caught in a crotch of the lilac bush which stood opposite the corner of the house. The old lilac bush had grown quite tall. It was actually a 6 m (18 ft) high tree with a trunk diameter of about 35 - 40 cm (15").
When it bloomed, the fragrance filled the yard. An old wooden bench beneath the tree had heard many a conversation. Perhaps the tree would have blown over in the next storm anyway, but unfortunately, it didn't get the chance.

When the branch caught on the wagon, the whole lilac bush ended up on top of the dog house. The dog ran off with its tail between its legs. It was a disaster! And I was to blame. I would have preferred not to have been there.

Now what? There was no way to fix this. My conscience gnawed at me. So far, no-one had seen it, because my parents and siblings were gathering the last remnants of hay from the meadow. So I took the next vehicle and drove out to the meadow to prepare them. They couldn't believe it.
When they got home and saw the accident, with the lilac bush still lying beside the wagon, what I expected to happen did not happen at all. I could hardly believe it. No yelling or scolding, just nothing! The lilac bush was cut up with a chain saw and cleared away, never again to be mentioned. They probably knew, as I was only 13 or 14 at the time, that I was likely a little overburdened!

This misfortune didn't have any consequences. When I was a little older, I was even entrusted to drive the hay baler within the neighboring villages to bring in hay from various fields to earn a little extra money.


Written down on Oct. 12, 2012 by Johann Wiesheu (*1965), Munich
Translation by Maximilian Grötsch and Peggy Chong

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