The Man on the Lawnmower

I have an interesting story to tell you. I stopped to photograph this barn this morning, up in Ontario, New York. I parked down the road from it, so my car would not be in the photo. I slowly walked toward the barn, looking and photographing and trying different compositions. While I was photographing, a man on a self-propelled lawnmower came down the road from the direction of the barn. I waved to him, he waved back, but kept moving. When he got down to my car he turned around and came back. I heard him coming, so went over to the roadside (I had been standing in the field near the barn.) He said it appeared I was not from the government or some agency, so he stopped to chat. I told him of my love of barns, and architecture, and said I loved his barn, and so stopped to photograph it. We talked for a while, and he said that this barn was built in the mid 1800's and that his parents had started this apple orchard years ago, and at apple picking time almost two dozen people were employed here. I asked if the orchard was still active. He said that part of it was. Then he said that when his son graduated from college he said to his son, that if he wanted to come back to the farm and get the orchard going again, they could work together on it. Then he said that unfortunately his son had been killed in a car accident. Black ice, at night. I was stunned. We talked about how there is no way to understand when life takes a turn like that, and how something like that changes the order of how life should be. He said he wished it had been him, instead of his son. We chatted a bit longer, and then he said he had some work to do. I introduced myself, and we shook hands, and he headed off on the lawnmower. And I, having had such a moving experience, went back to photographing a bit longer, before heading off.