i drive past this field ten times a week. it looks remarkably like other fields here, an open corn field of perhaps fifteen acres with a brushy edge and a woods behind.
harvested in fall.
this is my land, all hilly and rocky with beaver relandscaping the old meadow.
most farmers left the hardscrabble lands that are similar to my place. what happens then is the land rests for years, then someone buys it for their new home, or perhaps for hunting, perhaps to split it up and sell small holdings.
a piece of land i was interested in buying a couple of years ago was sold. a trophy house was put up. it is hideous. stuck up on a hill, an eyesore for all to see, and it is now for sale.
for almost four hundred thousand dollars.
boggles the mind.
the intimate details, an intimate relationship with the land--here it's still possible.
i'm grateful for that.