Photographing a quiet and lonely farm.
The working land that once belonged to this property was sold to a larger operation, and it is still being farmed today. Except for a barn, used now to store equipment, the remaining buildings and the farmhouse are empty.
Join me as I go exploring and step back in time!
Puffy clouds float in the sky above the silo and a small barn that housed pigs. The fields, soon to be planted again with corn, stretch on seemingly forever, eventually disappearing into the hazy horizon.
Years ago, two rows of trees were planted along the side of the property, behind the house. In the summertime, the farmer's children played for hours in the cool shade they provided. Prints are available of the trees here.
The original sun bleached doors are still on the front and back of the old, but sturdy hen house. The black void of the sagging barn window was too high up for me to peer into.
This is the area I was standing in when I captured my photograph titled, 'The Farm'. My attention was grabbed by the seemingly close proximity of the silo, barn and hen house. From an artistic standpoint, the lines and angles, along with the three windows, the faded tones of the cement and peeling paint, further captivated me as I looked through my camera's lens.
Although he spent much of his time in this spot, the tired farmer didn't view these things in quite the same manner; instead he viewed them simply as structures of necessity.But surely, there were times when the light from the setting sun shone upon the side of the silo lighting up the barn and hen house in a warm glow, that would cause the farmer to pause for a brief moment and take solace in the completion of a hard day's work.
The upstairs bedroom windows on the back of the house look out onto the rows of trees. Long ago, two sisters shared one of the small rooms and a hired man, nicknamed Hap and considered part of the family, had claim to the room next door. The farmer and his wife occupied the third bedroom of this quaint, old house.
I stood in the coolness of the shade and took one final look around before leaving, noting the quiet serenity and the sense of loneliness this place now evoked. Today, the girls are grown up and living the autumn years of their lives elsewhere. The farmer, his wife and the hired man named Hap, are now long gone from this life. As I watched a young farmer operate a modern planter in the field, it's wheels churning through the fertile soil, dropping seed in perfectly even rows while being efficiently guided by GPS, I thought to myself that despite the family's absence, some things here remain unchanged, while others are forever changed.
Shop The Story - Prints of the Farm: