I “saw” this place for the first time about two years ago. 

Even though I have driven by it for forty some years, I had never noticed it.

The morning I saw it, I was travelling eastward into a sunrise that was still a few minutes away.

I suppose the mute lighting and the fact that I was alone played into my impression somewhat. 

Since then, I look at it every time I go by.  I imagine it to be close to 100 years old, but who knows?  I’m guessing I’d have to interview quite a number of old timers to get to the bottom of its story. 

And more than likely, its story isn’t anything outstanding. 

But to me, it has two stories.

If you look southward, it is juxtaposed by the towering new windmills that run day and night to bring electricity to this country and the broken down windmill is partially hidden behind the tree.  A whole ‘nuther story could be written about that view.

If you look northward, you see prairie land that stretches on into infinity.

It is the northward view that you see in that picture. 

I strikes me, then, that common decency is a lot like this place.  We may not remember so well the details of what someone did for us, but, like this old place, the ghost of it remains long beyond the life of the person and that moment when their life intersected with ours. 

I don’t know that there is any right or wrong answer to my question of correlation.  And I’m not sure how much a person should wig out trying to find clues and metaphors to everything we see in life.  But sometimes, we see something for the first time, and it has meaning to it.

Oh, and for those who don’t live in this area, here is the southward view.