Between an afternoon barbeque and dinner with a friend, I took a spin through a part of North Adams I don’t know well. I passed a line of rusting tractors on Daniels Road, in the shadow of the Hairpin Turn that leads route 2 east, out of town.
I turned my truck around, pulled over and started snapping pictures of the ancient machines. Fifty yards away, a man fixing a dump truck hollered, “Taking pictures of the tractors?”
“Yep. They yours?”
“My dad’s. Knock yourself out. They go all the way to the edge of the field.”
“They’re just parts tractors.”