One day as I was out hunting for barns,
I came across this old blue wrecker. It just sat there, calling for me to take a picture. There is just something I love about old trucks, wreckers included, I guess.
Yes, I was raised in a very small town.
A town none the less. Sure, I had a few friends
that lived on farms and raised cattle and I was happy to spend a night or two for sleepovers but I was
certainly ready to return home the next day.
One day, my dad came home with a very old, red pick up truck.
I'm thinking it was a Chevy but I really have no clue.
Something about that old truck stirred up a whole other side to me.
Nah, I wasn't ready to raise cattle but I sure did daydream
about meeting a cowboy and maybe raising some horses.
I could just picture myself wearing the prairie dresses or skirts and tops
and walking through a field of daisies in my cowboy boots.
I loved that old truck. I'd gladly ride with my dad in it anywhere
he wanted to go. Those were easy days. Days before responsibilities and
the trials and tribulations of adult hood.
So whenever I see an old truck like old blue,
it seems like I go for a very long ride again,
even if it's only in my mind.
Do you have something that takes you back to better times?