I came across this old tractor in a hayfield. One leg was lame propped up on blocks. Rusty old skin.
“smells of grease, exhaust and earth,”
A thing of beauty for after all these years it will work, pulling the hay cutter, resting as the sun-dried the hay, and then pulling the baler and wagon. Doing its job year after year, with hardly a complaint except for perhaps a request for oil, a new sparkplug now and again. Maybe a carburetor rebuilt every so often.
Maybe it’s nothing fancy but reliability wins out over fashionable any day.
My Old Tractor And Me
David D. Davis
May 17, 2016
The days gone by we mourn and miss,
But, what a blessing we can reminisce.
Time on our old tractor gives us much,
It begins when we release the old clutch.
That sound of the engines powerful purr,
Makes today’s world become just a blur.
And back come our thought and dreams,
We are young once again or so it seems.
You and the antique tractor are now one,
It is wonderful no matter what gets done.
No where can you feel as close to God,
As when the old plow is turning up sod.
The smells of grease, exhaust and earth,
Your tired spirit feels a sense of rebirth.
As there comes a renewed sense of peace,
All your problems you now can release.
Any old farm boy knows this to be true,
As we realize our life is about through.
Surely heaven is a wonderful place to be,
Hope my old tractor can see it with me.
