This, I think, is a scarifier. I am in the middle of writing some of the times that made growing up on a farm such a seminal time for me. I have not told the scarifier story yet.
Tumbleweed It was August (known to be a windy month of the year) and it was blowing a gale. Tumbleweeds hurtled across our path, pressed forward by the busy wind. While I was photographing the tumbleweed, I braved the icy blast to find a few more tiny flowers and fruits by the roadside.
This, I think, is a scarifier. I am in the middle of writing some of the times that made growing up on a farm such a seminal time for me. I have not told the scarifier story yet.
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