Once a year, I take my car for its annual service. It takes approximately 90 minutes, so I drop off the car and take a walk through territory I normally wouldn't reach on foot. I appreciate the differences in the scenery from my normal excursions. The area is now an explosion of apartments on land that was once farmed.
Last year, I passed a farmer on his tractor cutting down hay. His driving was an art as he moved up and down the rows with an efficiency that testified of time and practice. He seemed to be the holdout--his lone farm among all the apartment buildings. I wondered if his children were waiting for him to pass on so they could sell his land to developers.
This year as I walked the once country road, the tractor was visible but silent, and the fields had been overtaken by weeds. Where was the farmer? Had the land already been sold? Were the plans made and the land already zoned for R3?
When I turned around and headed back to the car dealership, I saw the unexpected. This time I noticed the farmer's home and he was sitting on the porch. He was as still as his tractor. Because he was familiar to me, I waved.
He stared at me blankly.
Everything gives way.
Last year, I passed a farmer on his tractor cutting down hay. His driving was an art as he moved up and down the rows with an efficiency that testified of time and practice. He seemed to be the holdout--his lone farm among all the apartment buildings. I wondered if his children were waiting for him to pass on so they could sell his land to developers.
This year as I walked the once country road, the tractor was visible but silent, and the fields had been overtaken by weeds. Where was the farmer? Had the land already been sold? Were the plans made and the land already zoned for R3?
When I turned around and headed back to the car dealership, I saw the unexpected. This time I noticed the farmer's home and he was sitting on the porch. He was as still as his tractor. Because he was familiar to me, I waved.
He stared at me blankly.
Everything gives way.
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