Autumn was just beginning to break out and with the first chill in the air...the only sound heard was the clap, clap, clap of the turning veins of the windmill.
We had the farm all to ourselves. Normally a somewhat busy place this time of year but this late afternoon was different. As we walked along the well worn path leading past the windmill to the blacksmith area...the smell of hot iron was still present for the days work and the smell of burning wood fired for the woodshop still smoldered and glowed red. You could tell there was activity here not long before but now...all quiet.
We headed home with new memories of another beautiful day spent in the hills of Southern Missouri not far from the slow moving Missouri river with it's history and traditions still holding strong to it's roots of the 1700's.
1156 - Harvest - Sunday Whirl (Wordle #321) presents a list of words that we must incorporate in a writing piece. The words this week are: possible, pretense, individua...
1 day ago