Archive for July 15th, 2008


Vintage Tuesday

This is a wonderful old tractor that sits in a small clearing in the woods behind our house.  There was an old homestead there many years ago.  The house and barn are both gone now and all that remains is this old tractor, a cream separator that sits next to it and an old manure spreader.  The people who own this land are my neighbors about 1/4 mile down the road from us, and it was the husbands parents who originally lived on the homestead.  When they were doing some cleaning up back there, they moved the tractor out of the way and pushed it off to the side.  Well, as luck would have it, they pushed it right into a patch of Daylilies, (much to my delight) because this makes for a great picture.  I like this old tractor so much that I was inspired to write a poem about it, which I will include in this post.  I also have pics of it in all 4 seasons, but I’ll save those for another post.


I leave the heat

Of the day behind

As I enter the cool

Shade of the woods.

The thick, green foliage

Allows an occasional

Shaft of golden sunlight

To break through and

Dance upon my skin.

The sun slowly descends

In the western sky,

Not a cloud in sight.

Here among the trees

It is another world;

A bit of heaven

All around.

I pass, once again,

A large toad, heavily

Hopping out of my way.

He must live near here,

For I disturb him

Every time I pass.

I pause to admire

An ancient tractor.

Its tires are gone

And its motor is probably

Rusted up tight.

It has a past, a history,

But has long since

Outlived its usefulness,

And now rests contentedly

Amid a patch of wild daylilies

As the days and seasons pass.

I throw stick after stick

For the dog to fetch.

He chases each one

With enthusiasm,

Though each time

His tongue hangs

Longer as he tires.

We walk on a crackly

Carpet of needles.

Through the dark stand of pines,

Their branches so thick

That nothing grows

Beneath them except moss.

The field where I

snowshoe in the winter,

once an expanse of pure white,

is now a brilliant, lush green.

My dog seems to appreciate

These daily ventures

Into this other world

As much as I do,

Though maybe for

Different reasons,

Or maybe for the same.

I see a flash

Of brown and white

As a whitetail deer

Beats a hasty,

Though quiet retreat

From the human and

Canine intruders.

She doesn’t care much

For our kind, and wants

Nothing to do with us.

On the way home,

I let the dog lead

And choose our route.

He stops and looks

At me questioningly,

As if seeking approval.

I tell him whichever

way he chooses

is fine with me,

for any path that

leads us home

is a good one.

July 2008
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