No Country for Small Cars
I went out for a drive the other day finally alone and able to drive out to an old homestead I could see from the highway. Strangely, my passengers or drivers don’t always want to drive out to every broken down building we see off in the distance. They claim to need to “get somewhere” because they “have a life.”
Optimistically, I turned on my signal light and turned off the highway onto the road that would usually be graveled. That day, though, there was a grader moving slow and scraping the road’s surface down to clay, creating a long barrier of gravel down the road’s centre (see photo below) — and doing this right by where I planned to leap out of my small green car and take some photos with my phone.
I passed the grader nonchalantly acting like I was heading somewhere else. Where? Apparently, no one lives on that road, at least not until the next intersection. And that’s where I spun the car around, hoping that the grader had moved on. It had not. How could it be with this long stretch of road to scrape that this grader was right where I wanted to be — still?
At this point, I didn’t care anymore. I was irritated. The presence of the grader would stop me from trespassing, but it would not stop me from taking some photos.
As I pulled over, I gave the grader driver a wave. He ignored me. I waited until he’d gone a little farther and was out of my way. I approached the fence line and got these pictures of an old homestead. I had passed by many times from a distance, but the site is not easily visible from the main highway and from that faraway, I couldn’t see that the foundation is made of stones, so that was really exciting for someone who has nowhere to go and no life.
That’s all from me for now. Have a great weekend and a happy Halloween! – Lori