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  • She was 90 and he was 80. They were the 5th generation to live on this road, to work on the farm, and to own the farm. They are the last.

    Every morning he wakes up, and feeds the cows, she feeds the chickens, they collect the eggs. They hay the fields, the muck the stalls, the lent me a goat.

    I needed the goat for a video shoot, but I never even saw the farm, or met the farmers. I had other people to check in on it for me.

    I returned the goat with a few friends at the end of the days shoot, planning on heading to the wrap party. I was ready to unwind.

    What I found was the most relaxing and enjoyable atmosphere I could have imagined. The smell of the cows, the sound of the poultry.

    I was transported back to my grandparents farm when I was 5 years old.
    I wanted to run around, jump in the hay, chase the geese.

    As the night took over, I was happy not because I had finished my job, but because they were finishing theirs.

    I hope they live to 200.
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