Right smack dab in the middle of a town's expansion project, lies a farm. A neon super CVS on one side and a noisy freeway on the other. But this farm, when looked at completely separate from the chaos that surrounds it, seems untouched, unscathed. As if in a time capsule, this farm clings to it's charm, quaint, and simple life. 
There's a rosebush, in particular, in full bloom. The bright velvet red petals can be seen from the road going 50 miles per hour. They are astounding. Behind that rosebush, green grass grows, golden leaves fall from the mammoth tree above. 
Chickens and cows cluck and graze, seemingly unaware of the construction rustling about them. The dainty sounds of the cattle chewing, the sticks cracking under the hen's feet would surly seem impossible to hear over the bulldozer's ferocious roar. 
But some how, some way, this farm invites you in, and you can hear.... a bee buzzing, a leaf brushing up against her neighbor, the grass pushing its way up towards the sunshine. 
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