PHOTOGRAPHER'S JOURNAL: Thoughts on photographing an abandoned farmhouse.Passages
At the threshold
Milk was left
And muddy boots
And ill will
And first kisses
In the blizzard of '88 the snow was piled to the top of the door.
Summers, the screen door
Let the breezes pass
And whispering
And the smell of midday meals
And the tractor's steady grind.
One fall the dog sat on the stoop and barked all night.
Across the threshold footsteps tracked
The days and weeks,
Wearing the boards.
Till the paint on the door jamb was thick,
The wood, brittle and dry.
4 comments:
Reflections on the C. Family Farmhouse
They walked into the farmhouse that was home to their grandparents and great-grandparents prior to its razing. The rooms seemed small for a family of eight. The kitchen was stark and the granddaughter remarked on the lack of a dining room. Where did they eat, sleep, bathe? Where did the family gather on cold winter nights? Father said the boys slept in one big bed, the girls in another. There was always something cooking on the wood stove, and the tub had a large wooden top that served as a table. We observed the family reunion with the farmhouse, and paused as the screen door closed for the last time.
I had forgotten all about that farmhouse, and even if I'd thought about it, I was busy video taping; I never would have remembered the various comments. Now that you mention it I do recall the discussion that they didn't have interior bathrooms or any even remotely modern appliances in the kitchen until very recent times. Thanks for adding that and getting me to think about one more farmhouse. Yes, families had to be large to run the farm and houses had to be small to keep them warm.
Love reflections...
Thanks. I've since revised this image (a rare reconsideration of previous work) to put even more focus on the reflection and the ripped screen.
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