Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Dairy Farm, 2013

PHOTOGRAPHER'S JOURNAL: It has fallen. It took me awhile to notice, though I should have spotted it immediately. They were the three watchtowers of earlier photographs. Now one was missing, the sentry at the eastern end of the old dairy barn - the barn sinking into the earth under the weight of vines and the toll of the seasons - roof so low I had to stoop inside - like the other buildings: large chicken houses and sheds that seemed made of dry sticks and disappeared into the brush. There's a farmhouse too, though it is surrounded by a thicket such as a fairy godmother or witch might conjure to shield a sleeping princess. The first time I visited I named this farm, "Forsaken Acres."  Sunday I walked on the broken shards that were the silo, and I was surprised how little rubble the great tower left when it fell, only a few cart loads of broken, orange tile.

How do I feel about the tower's demise? I try to imagine the sounds of steam locomotives hooting through this valley from all directions when there were cows milked here twice daily - Sealtest days. The silo was an awfully good prop that caught the light well, and there were more good shots to be made with it. The railroad track is long gone; even many of the rights of way have disappeared. The missing silo opens new compositional possibilities as long as the western silos hold. One looks tenuous. When it goes there will be little reason to come back to photograph here.  I'll miss that; one can see a great distance from here.


Ginnie said...

Thank god you have left your mark there, Ted, because otherwise one would guess it really is utterly forsaken!

Emery Roth II said...

Whoever plants the soy leaves a bigger mark. I try to leave not a trace except these images. However, on my last visit I met a young man and his mother ho were there because because they had followed my blog and decided to visit sites I had photographed. I was busy shooting for five minutes before I noticed them behind me, talking.