Time Marches On...

Most every fall the dog and I make it over to the back ridge to the old homestead.  The original house, built back in the 1800s when the property was first homesteaded, is no longer there, of course.  But this little house is there.

 

In front of the house is the fallen pecan tree.  When I came here 19 years ago the pecan was standing proud and tall, but about ten years ago it was blown over in a storm.  This half of the tree, which had roots still in the ground, survived and has produced pecans every year without fail.  This year I noticed the leaves look diseased.  That may, I hope, be due to the drought and insect damage over the course of the summer.  We will see how it does this coming spring.  

The house itself, probably built in the early 1900s, is over 100 years old, and has become more and more dilapidated over the years.  When I came here the doors shut semi-securely and the siding was still attached.   

The barn has collapsed, which is sad.  This is the back of it, looking toward the house which you can barely make out.  It was the back of the barn which had withstood the brunt of the winds and weather.  It was built from hand hewn oak I believe, and the fact that is stood so long is a testament to that wood's longevity.  The trees are are in what use to be the corral; most of which is still intact. 

It is sad.  But I remember that my mother always used to say; "Time marches on."  She was right.  Time does march on, it takes its toll.  Some day I expect I, too, will become weary, cease my wanderings of the hills and just settle into place like the old barn.  Rest when you become weary isn't a bad thing.  It is the order of life.  When the time comes, to be at rest with the Savior will be the greatest gift of all.