six hundred sunsets
For as long as I have lived in my house, some 26 years now, this has been my view. Some years it is corn, others wheat, but always this old, broken down shed with its very own sentinel of tree. I have watched thousands of sunsets through this silhouette.
I was away all morning, and when I returned, both tree and shed were gone. I’m guessing that the farmer who owns the field needs the space to boost his crop, last year we had a terrible drought, and I know it was rough for him. I can’t blame him for doing what needs to be done.
But there was always something about that shed that spoke of days gone by, and that one lone tree in a field full of corn was always the first thing I could see coming up the hill, guiding me home.
Once again, and without warning, my view of the world has changed. And while I know that change is the only thing we can really count on, I will miss the comfort of this familiar sight.
I’m getting the feeling that 2013 is going to be filled with surprises. So I’m going to buckle my seatbelt and settle in for the ride, and see where it takes me.
Because you can’t fight change and the world keeps turning and the sinking sun will still be beautiful.
And I have lots of photos to remind me of the way things used to be.
Every so often, I will walk to end of the driveway with one in my hand and hold it up for just a moment, remembering.
And then I’ll go back inside and catch up to life, before it goes zooming by.