A guest at my house once said I live “in the middle of nowhere.” Today it feels like living on the runway of Newark Airport.
I heard what sounded like a jet engine outside this morning. The farmer who comes around once a year, in September, to mow the hay field across the road, has arrived. His tractor is very picturesque but don’t these things have mufflers?
Who knew that life in the country was so noisy? I love to watch him from my front porch. In a day or two, he will start baling, and stacking the bales at the end of the field.
My neighbor, Denise Callanan Kline, is a fine artist who did this painting of him last year. Have a lovely autumn, wherever you live.
