LOOKIT!!!! It's a doggie!

I picked up the dog dog today! Bruno, as he was called by the shelter, is home. He weighs in at a light 74 pounds and could stand to gain at least 15 more. The vet and others ask me what his breed is and I tell them hungry. And boy is he! He is mostly lab, the other part appears to be empty stomach. He is afraid of the psycho kitty Squishy and does not like Drizzt-cat around his food. That could be a mild problem since he thinks all food is his. So far he is well mannered in the house and out. He likes the kiddos and Charity, which is good because I would hate to loose her.... He is still learning what is his and what is not a chew toy. He loves his smoked and basted bones. You can tell by the gnawing noises and shrapnel left behind. He really likes a ride in the X-Terra and the big yard. Did I mention that he loves food also? I think that he will be a great looking animal once I get some weight back on him. He will be a wonderful friend to walk with on this leg of my travels.
As I had mentioned, we went to the ranch/farm where I spent some great times growing up and learning what it was to be a good man. There was a lot of memory triggers that took me back to 6 and 7 years old. The tank I spent summers fishing at, the field I learned to drive a tractor in, where I learned to ride a bike. Lots of memories. Without my grandfather, the place looked hard, desolate, empty. As if it too had passed on. Oh there is still life there, but different. You can see signs of the way it once was, the fallen grandeur of a once-proud land worked by hard hands. You can see the skeletons of greatness. You can feel the emptiness in the wind, a longing to be great again if only it had that spark again. The whole of the place feels hollow. Instead of sadness, I felt acceptance. He would like that, I think.
What I remember most, other than the people, are the smells. The fresh turned earth, food cooking, the dog. I remember the feel of the wind as I stand on the hill or in the fields. That wind that calls to me, draws me to find its source, to go. I can feel the rains of all seasons washing over me, the feeling of being truly cleansed by the soul of the land. I hear the birds, the sheep, the cattle, the tractor and my grandfather calling in the cows to milk. We had only the two Jerseys that we milked, we needed no more than that. I also remember the feel of a warm egg in my hand taken from right under the hens. Now, there is just the wind. But, if you listen closely you can still hear and feel all of these things. I hope someday the place is awakened anew.
How far does the wind carry the past?