A neat and tidy farm settles in a slight hollow at the end of a ripening hayfield cast against a stretch of woods, fleabane and early yarrow dotting the edge of the field.
While much of Western Pennsylvania is hilly, sometimes unpredictably so, and these narrow two-lane backroads can often lead to surprise drop-offs from the roadside as you round a bend, this area is in the range of the edge of a long-ago glacier that scraped the hills into the valleys and created deep gravel beds. The land rises and falls as if it gently breathes in its sleep.
For its simplicity, the farm was eye-catching and had I but 20 minutes I would have stopped along the roadside and done a quick pastel of it. Alas, I was trying to outrun a thunderstorm and knew I’d have only about 10 minutes before I was soaked, and I didn’t relish the thought of driving in a downpour. I did win the race, but next time I may stop anyway.