Your photos have done just that. Rescued it from proper corruption. I'm imagining the child who once played with that tractor.
This (tristfully) reminds me to call my aunt, who always kept a set of John Deere farm toys pristine in the basement...awesome photos, erin!
I used to wander here, or there, n'such places as a kid.
super gritty and delish
the 2nd is so sad.
It feels alive and dead at the same time. Very moving...
somewhere there is a gray-whiskered man who thinks he has forgotten this tractor, but at night he dreams of pushing it through the dust and wakes with the word home caught in the back of his throat like a bit of milkweed fluff ...
"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))