Old Barn

There is some color left in the leaves here but most of the color is south of here. The wind and rain have stripped the the hickory, maple, and poplar trees down to bare limbs. It's beginning to look like winter here.
I went down to the barn and winterized my old tractor this morning. It's a 1949 Ford that has been like a faithful friend for many years. It don't have the bells and whistles of the newer tractors shipped here from Japan and Korea but it cranks when you need it and it turns furrows straight and deep for our seasonal gardens.
I sat in the loft window of the old barn with my legs dangling down. We don't have cows now, but the old barn still has the smell of hay and livestock. It's hard to think about deadlines and conference calls sitting in that barn. It has electricity but those walls have never heard the sound of a phone.
I'm getting to a stage in my life where I long for the solace that my old barn provides. I have less patience for shallow people who believe that anything less that total dedication to a company is foolishness.
I guess you can tell I really needed this vacation.