Day 28: Not much has changed in the 25-plus years since I first found this old guy. The leaf litter has gotten a bit deeper and the moss is having its way with the wooden wheel spokes, but for as damp as the forest is here, I would have expected his bones to have rusted away at least to a point that I could discern some level of decline. He was built to last, but at some point, I imagine his inner workings failed, and if the farmer serviced him and got him back on the job for a while, his demise was inevitable. Left where he took his last gasp, Mother Nature is doing her best to gather him to her bosom even though his spirit lingers.
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