A cold rain fell on the lilacs beside the old homestead cabin where he still lived despite having been away to college, having been away to try his hand at living elsewhere, having been away in his heart never.

He no longer farmed full-scale, had let the fields return to pasture where cattle grazed, but he had put in a garden that fed most of the small community, and he sold goat cheese and eggs, too, let the schoolchildren pick pumpkins in season, made intricate furniture out of wood…