To me, the sight of a mountain farm, deserted... after generations of strenuous back killing work, is something very sad... tragic.
Like skinny arms and hands begging for mercy, the branches of the almond trees seem to be stretching out in a last desperate gesture... whispering "Please"... only to fall to the ground by it's own weight at the end... like so many already have done
The grass and the weed permitted to grow unrestrained... has killed them off slowly since the last farmer left them behind. Golden grass stealing their water away.
The last farmer's sons found easier bread and butter elsewhere...
Like skinny arms and hands begging for mercy, the branches of the almond trees seem to be stretching out in a last desperate gesture... whispering "Please"... only to fall to the ground by it's own weight at the end... like so many already have done
The grass and the weed permitted to grow unrestrained... has killed them off slowly since the last farmer left them behind. Golden grass stealing their water away.
The last farmer's sons found easier bread and butter elsewhere...
o