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Years of storms had taken their toll on the old windmill. Its wheel, rusted and fallen, lay silent in the lush bluegrass. Its once animated silhouette was now a tall motionless steeple in the twilight sun.多年的风雨毁坏了古老的风车。车轮已经锈了，倒了，静静地躺卧在茂盛的六月禾丛中。在落日的衬托下，曾经散发着生气的风车如今如耸立的尖塔般冰冷、生硬。I hadn‘t walked across our old farm in fifteen years. Yet the sensations came flooding back. I could smell the freshness of new mown alfalfa. I could feel the ping of the ice cold summer rain, and the sun‘s sudden warmth on my wet shoulders when it reappeared after a brisk July thunderstorm.我已经有十五年没有走过我们的农场了。然而，那些感觉又汹涌而至。我仿佛闻到了新割的苜蓿的清新气息，感觉到了冰冷夏雨敲打在身上，还有七月的雨后阳光照射在湿漉漉的身上骤然传来的暖意。Rain or shine, I used to walk this path each day to see Greta. She always made me smile, even after Sis and I had just had a big squabble. I would help Greta with her chores. Then we would visit over a generous helping of her delicious homemade chocolate cookies and ice cream. Being confined to a wheel chair didn‘t stop Greta from being a fabulous cook.无论雨天或晴天，我曾经天