Signs

Originally Posted 9/30/09 on Save the Farm blog:

The Pink Tractor Farm sign was fashioned by a fine carver out of fir fit to withstand the wildest Pacific Northwest storms. I was pleased as punch on the day several years ago when my husband Jonathan bolted it to our front fence.


The sign weathered nobly and became more natural to the place every year as if it had sprung from the soil, a cousin to the cherry, apple and pear trees nearby.

Our carver friend, Jonathan, myself, our island neighbors who drove past that sign so often they took it for granted as part of the landscape. None of us anticipated the storm so devastating it howled down our sturdy fir marker and replaced it with another made of base metal that said For Sale.

I hated that sign, tried not to see it when I turned into our driveway, told myself it could not possibly be real.

Then two things happened – an afternoon at the bank and a roofer sneaking down our driveway. I’ve told those stories already. They led to this one.

Somewhere deep inside me my own storm rose. It grew in fury and burst forth, toppling that flimsy metal sign into the ditch. Realtors, curiosity seekers, buyers scrambling for a steal of a deal were swept away in this tempest and have not yet returned.

The Pink Tractor Farm sign is back on our front fence. Jonathan and our grandchildren put it there a few Sundays ago. We have no idea how long fate will allow our sign to reign over our orchard pasture. We only know that is where it belongs.