Hauling the empty corn wagon down Schoolhouse Hill back to Dad’s picker when the brakes went out on the Co-op #3, missed the downshift and was grinding gears and sweating bullets but relatively optimistic until I noticed the septic tank crossing the T intersection at the bottom of the hill. The neighbor had a cement business, I had seen him delivering septic tanks before, but it wasn’t till that moment that I understood there was no market for small septic tanks.This was definitely a Jumbo and moving slow so I canceled the left turn, hung a two wheeled right and that’s how the sign got bent.
Corn Wagon’s full, too full, engine quits, sliding backwards, pick a tree quick, four inch Black Locust, strong but supple, not even a dent. Ha!
Top of the Hill
First blizzard, last load, seven tundra swans, white on white, forty feet to the left, eye-level following the only thing they can see.