Down on the farm

On the old Hauser Farm near Pilot Mountain, apples are ripening on the trees and grapes hang heavy on the vine. Guinea fowl run through the woods, giving a call that sounds like “come back, come back.” In the pasture, a cow stretches its neck and lows while a horse swats at flies with its tail. Kittens wrestle in the shadow of the barn.

You can imagine what it was like here in 1900, because not much has changed. The door to the old farm house stands open, as though the family’s only just been called away. Handmade quilts cover the feather beds, a piano sits silent in the parlor. A stereoscope used for viewing photos has been abandoned on a table.

The farm is now called the Horne Creek Historical Farm, and is part of the state park system, under development to recreate a family farm from the early 20th century.

We stopped there last Friday and wandered around the grounds for an hour or so. I found myself envying the people who had lived here in a world without computers or cell phones.

As we walked past the orchard on our way to the car, a deer ran in front of us, jumping over an old rail fence, then slipping into the woods quiet as a ghost.