They were there all along. Only I was facing the other way, wrestling with the barns of Hollow Farm while enjoying the unusually multivoiced choir of birds around me. Jannequin's polyphony had nothing on these guys, but the barns were stubborn, stuck there like cows with their heads down in the pasture. I had hoped that the carpet of pink blossoms would somehow help me make the picture I wanted. I had been moving around, looking for angles on the setting sun and the fiber of the blossoms. The barns textures glowed as the sun got lower; the paintpot was ready, but the whole would not compose itself. I had probably shot 200 images of the barns when I first turned around. Beyond the curtain of trees the sun skated across the marsh grasses, a last thrill of golden, warm sunlight, and the birds were exalting, and I heard frogs there too. I snapped just 4 images and knew I had something I would like. Then I turned and snapped another 200 of the barns.
When I went back the next day for another sunset shoot the field had been mowed. It was just a large lawn between the barns and the old stone wall.
4 comments:
This is just amazing, Ted. It reminds me of the fields of Scilla that we see in Germany in early spring.
Thanks for your note. Good to know this one makes you happy, and it will also provide Jonathan with the missing computer desktop image or screen saver. I'm not sure if it will match his curtains.
Thank you for visiting my blog and giving me the link to your gorgeous photos. Where exactly are you located? I will definitely add you to my blogroll!
Hi Jenny. We are about 40 minutes apart. I'm between New Milford and Litchfield.
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