SHORT STORY
falling By Becky Buyers-Basso ’81
H John on Tractor, 2005 by Carolyn Snell ’06, 17” by 22”, oil on canvas. This painting is part of my senior project entitled “Portraits of Maine Farmers: A Senior Project in Oil Paint.” Because I grew up on a farm in Buxton, Maine, the thrill of growing food and flowers is always with me. Through my exploration of human ecology, with a focus on writing and literature, art and painting, I have come to further appreciate the sparkle of humanity that shines in farmers. In this project, I attempt to capture that humanity in farmers, whether in their fields or their living rooms. John is my dad, and he is doing one of his favorite things—attentively unearthing russet potatoes.
e didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the sun felt so nice and warm on his face that Mike Merrill thought he’d close his eyes for just a minute. An air of inevitability hung about the family farmstead. Although most of the acreage had been sold off over the years to pay taxes, the core was still there— the gabled house, Dutch barn, two hayfields and what remained of the orchard. Every surviving tree seemed to be missing a limb. Twisted trunks and gnarled branches cast intertwining shadows across the ground, but the old man didn’t notice. Mike was a boy again, small and lithe as a cat, climbing one of those trees. On a branch hanging high above him, he spied an apple he wanted. Droplets of dew on the fruit’s rosy skin reflected the morning sun. He had to have that apple. It was perfect, and nothing less than perfection would do. No worm holes. No bruises. Apples this perfect could only be found in the tree, still growing.
COA | 39