This must be the place

by Old Bone Machine

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Behind the fence in the field on a tractor, the old farmer sat and stared out. In a place like this you can watch the shadow of a cloud move across the land.

I saw the farmer as I rode over the hill and immediately I wanted to stop and photograph him on his worn, red tractor. Instead I rode on, as silent as the shadow of a cloud, and left the farmer in his contemplation.

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