Ghosts of the past in farms of the present

I had spoken to Jim Cronin by phone earlier, and he confirmed he’d be “around the yard” all evening.

My reason for calling was to collect payment for a few hundred small square bales of straw Jim had collected from me at harvest time.

While he had given me directions, I’d never been to his place, and I found myself reflecting on how little I really knew of my local area, as I turned in the narrow road that I had passed thousands of times previously.