At a small, rural Ontario restaurant for breakfast, I sat a short distance from a group of old friends. They all were elderly farmers, talking about their work and their days. And as I listened in, fascinated, to their conversations about moving cattle, maintaining barns, selling hay and things in general, I wanted to ask them a question; “when your time to work and cultivate your land is done, who will carry on the important stewardship and legacy of this land that has been your life’s work.”
It’s kind of fun to do the impossible.
Time, where did you go? Why did you leave me here alone?