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The end is near


I have been driving by this farm for some time now.  As a matter of fact, I photographed it a few years back for my blog–a shot of the barn and its accompanying farmhouse right before a storm:




Spring storms a'coming


In this past week, the home sitting to the right of the barn disappeared.  Its been boarded up for a bit of time now, its occupants no longer in sight.  And today, driving to work, I noticed the heavy equipment, sitting in front of the grand barn, readying to demolish it.  I stopped the car to photograph it, a darkened rainy morning befitting the days to proceed the demise of what was once, I imagine, a heavy duty, labor intensive, dairy farm.  And now, building by building, it has vanished.


I sat in the road for just a bit of time after taking my photos.  I felt so very sad.  I’m not sure why, exactly.  I do not know the farmers who once tended the cows and land here.  For all I know, they have sold the property for a lot of money and are living out the retirement of their dreams, somewhere very warm.  No, it is not necessarily the farmer for whom I grieve but, rather, the farm itself.  For all the farms and farmers who disappear each week, as they can no longer afford to keep their bills paid and stay ahead of the game.


I feel a soap box coming on.  I hit the backspace button.  Goodbye barn.  I’m glad I got a few photos of you.  Dream of better days.