After maybe 55 years of running a baler, Dad decided he's done. He'll hire someone else, or maybe even borrow Brian's if he needs some bales, but it's not worth the expense and inconvenience of owning our own machine for the few acres of hay we have. So, today we said a reluctant farewell to a trusty part of the past.
I guess nostalgia is kind of like today's view from my windows. When I looked north, the sky was black and violent and threatening. When I sat back in my chaise, the rusty oranges of the Kousa just seemed to be a beautiful statement that complemented my comfortable haven.
No comments:
Post a Comment