Leonardo da Vinci once said, “Art is never finished, only abandoned.” Such is true with most things I deem, perhaps this old homestead and farm.
I could’ve easily wizzed by without noticing the farm’s dilapidated beauty. Yet I didn’t. I slowed down, even going so far as zooming back-and-forth two-fold before seeking permission to capture the awe before me.
Four times I wizzed-on-by. Each time, questions arose in my mind. What did these building witness? Two world wars? The war for our nation’s identity? Children laughing and playing. Births. Deaths. Surely, both abundance and scarcity graced its doors.
Abandoned? No — glorious tributes of days long past. Someday they may be torn down, but only so something other can be erected that will likewise see days one cannot yet envision.