They were down in the center of the pasture. Three of them. Tractors that had spent their entire lives in the field; cutting, plowing, falling apart, the furthest distance from where they would find being fixed, to cut and plow again. They seemed to be arguing, their day looked finished, but they appeared to have this one thing that they needed to get ahold of, and explain it where at least two of them would settle the argument.
The newer old tractor was turned and all appearances were that it was put off and about to leave. The second tractor, it's front tires so close to the leaving one, that it looked like it was ready to fly in and pounce on something that must have taken place that was yet to be decided, and the old old tractor, sat there looking dejected, but close enough to the other two, old enough to know better than both, and sad for the situation.
These three tractors, looking for all the world more human than they were meant to be, close, close, close in the field, close for my heart.
Ralph Peck
Photo by Ralph Peck
Outside of Choteau Oklahoma
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