Our neighbors are building on the field across the road from the farm.
Because they are Amish, they bring the lumber on a long wooden wagon pulled by two draft horses. Two giant white horses. They stand in their blinders, tied to the big pine. So still for hours the only movement is a toss of the head, stomp of a foot or rumple of their skin to flick the flies away.
Two days ago the men brought a wooden shed the size and shape of an outhouse and placed it in the spot where I had seen them working the week before. It could be a well house, an outhouse or a shed to keep their tools.
Two men of the same height and build, same blue shirt and pants, same straw hat. From where I watch I can’t tell them apart, although their families would know, by the stoop of their shoulder or gait of their walk.
We’ve watched our neighbors build before. First a big metal building, next the barn and few years later the house.
I hope they will still hay the hilly fields, or fence it in for their horses.
If we could have afforded to buy the land we would have. It’s been a hayfield for years although I heard there was once a trailer on it, in the same spot where our neighbors are building.
We are glad to have them. So much better than a busy, brightly lit business or a small neighborhood.
The dogs listen for the wagons and watch the activity from behind the fence. At first they barked, but already they seem to understand it’s useless. They won’t be chasing anyone away.
I watch through my studio window or from the corner of the back yard. I listen from the front porch. I report what I’ve seen back to Jon. Yesterday a shed today long slabs of lumber, and more on the way.
I’m intrigued by their process, curious about how it will all come together. Some things are almost certain, the house, barn, gardens and animals, but others unknown. I wonder what they will make and sell and what it will be like to have neighbors so close by.
We’ll try to be good neighbors, maybe bring flowers when the move in. I don’t doubt they will be good neighbors too.
(I wrote this yesterday but forgot to post it. I took the picture this morning, but already the land looks very different, the big pine cut down and big trucks delivering insulation and other building materials.)
