flightsc
New member
Something occurd to me the other day while i was driving back from my friends lakehouse in upstate south carolina. I was on state hwy 8 which is nothing more than a two lane road that spans about six counties while going from one sleepy town to the next. By all means its not the best road in the state but one of the most scenic.
Coming around a bend in the road i see an old saw mill sitting on the bank of the Saluda River, its saws long since stopped spinning, leaving only the faintest of echos throughout its crumbleing brick facade.
Just up the next hill, vast and expansive pastures lay on either side, the thunder of cattle no longer present, yet the almost stately farm house still sitting proud on the highest hill.
Down the road crop fields lay dorment and fallow no longer a source of viable income. I pull off on the side of the road and take a picture just as the morning fog is lifting, thinking what has become of this great nation.
Are farmers, ranchers, and industry dead? What ever happened to the satisfaction that one got from working the land, or making something with his bare hands? Sun on your back in the fields or saw dust flying all around you, knowing that when you are done, you will have made something worth keeping, something to be proud of?
Coming around a bend in the road i see an old saw mill sitting on the bank of the Saluda River, its saws long since stopped spinning, leaving only the faintest of echos throughout its crumbleing brick facade.
Just up the next hill, vast and expansive pastures lay on either side, the thunder of cattle no longer present, yet the almost stately farm house still sitting proud on the highest hill.
Down the road crop fields lay dorment and fallow no longer a source of viable income. I pull off on the side of the road and take a picture just as the morning fog is lifting, thinking what has become of this great nation.
Are farmers, ranchers, and industry dead? What ever happened to the satisfaction that one got from working the land, or making something with his bare hands? Sun on your back in the fields or saw dust flying all around you, knowing that when you are done, you will have made something worth keeping, something to be proud of?