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This pretty gate is just up the road from us on Highway 46. I’ve been driving by the gate for the last 13 years. Every spring it has a pretty vine growing on it.

It makes me think of the dirt road that led us to my Grandparent’s farm near Fort Worth. So the gate feels like a childhood memory to me.

It may look nothing like my Grandparent’s farm. But in my mind it does.

I stopped today to take this picture so that I can ask my Dad.

 

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