Many agricultural tractors took part in the parade through the city (article here with 50 images) before all moving onto San Pietro in Campo.
What started out as a small festa in the village to celebrate using the old machinery and tractors to thresh the grain and prepare bales of straw has in the space of just seven years blossomed into a full blown festival of the old traditions once used in this area with everything from bread making, grain preparing and even to roasting grain to make “coffee”.
They have also organised inside this event an art happening with Sandra Rigali for young artists, to paint for the day, make your own scarecrow, Chairart was also present but the real crowd puller was once again the magnificent tractors and agricultural machinery that were on display.
Not only the Landini vintage tractor that usually powers the threshing machine but also the star of the show again this year – an early 1900 steam engine.
The steam engine unfortunately had to retire from the stage after only a short time powering the thresher as the intense heat of the afternoon, temperatures were hovering round 35 degrees at one point, meant that the 100 year old steam engine risked damage if the pressure was raised too high.
In stepped one of the vintage tractors, and threshing continued.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBMco0ffPNc
From the barganews archives 2012
“Il Soldato di San Pietro in Campo”
E già venian più rare
le squille delle Avemarie lontane,
e s’alzò dalla valle, di tra un mare
di foglie, un suono a morto, a tre campane.
Oh! Piangi… Pensa … Dormi… Piangi… Pensa…
Dormi… echeggiava in ogni cuor San Piero
nell’ora dolce in cui fuma la mensa:
nell’ora in cui risuona ogni sentiero
di piedi scalzi, e anche di novelle
e di ragioni dette con mistero:
S. Pietro in Campo sperso là tra quelle
file di pioppi, garrulo ai tramonti,
di gravi rane e allegre raganelle.
Echeggiava tra i monti. Erano i monti
tutti celesti; tutto era imbevuto
di cielo: erbe di poggi, acqua di fonti,
fronda di selve, e col suo blocco acuto
la liscia Pania, e con le sue foreste
il monte Gragno molle di velluto.
Sfiorava il sole tuttavia le creste
toccando qua e là nuvole vane
e di laggiù, fra tutto quel celeste,
veniva il suono delle tre campane. – Giovanni Pascoli