I LIKE OLD TRUCKS AND I CAN NOT LIE...

I like old trucks...secret's out!

Old rusty, faded trucks just speak to me.

I don't know anything about their mechanics or workings.

If they're a stick shift, I couldn't drive them.

However, if I had one, I could just sit and look at it all day.
I could make up stories and let my imagination ramble.

Just look at their faces!

Yes, faces!

 
Look at their expressions and souls.

Their history is there, their stories are told. 

A little boy who's face is full of wonder.

A bit of a grin and rusty eyebrows say he's mischievous and filled with curiosity.

 

Miss Red here seems a bit confused, but sweet.

 

  Maybe she is confused as to WHY Blue Boy is leaving.
It's a romantic thang.

 

Blue Boy's had a rough life.
Lots of heartache and headaches.

He's losing his head over Miss Red.

 

 

Uh Oh...here's a brawler.
Been in one too many fights.
Maybe fighting Blue Boy over Miss Red.
Fisticuffs.

                                Ole RD is just a little off center,
                            but probably the wisest in the bunch.
              He's played one too many games of Popeye, however.

These trucks were gathered beside the peach house in Musella.

Holding a service I imagine, a revival without the tent.

Don't you know they've seen it all?

All the busloads of Senior citizens and tourists.

The locals and regulars who come for the peach ice cream.

All the field trucks bringing in the peaches. 

Some are probably the original peach trucks themselves.

Brings back the olden days for them.

So much history sitting in the weeds.

I love old trucks, and I can not lie!

Best,
Vicki