I have had some serious photo-lust going over this farm site for at least three years. When I go walking, I park my car maybe 10 yards from the property, sigh mightily and promise myself that I will beg the owners for permission to shoot the many buildings there.
But it’s not easy to walk up to a stranger’s door, introduce yourself and ask permission to roam around their yard with a camera.
Last night when I parked in my usual spot, there were actually folks out front and buoyed by…I don’t know…having had a really good day, I made myself do it.
I won’t kid you: I choked, babbled and blushed like a nervous suitor. In fact, I was so nervous that I (I cannot believe this) neglected to ask anyone’s name. Seriously. As a result, I cannot call ahead to say I’m coming. I don’t even have an address—I just know how to get there. HOWEVER…I have permission to photograph the site. (YES!)
So, this is what I can tell you: the barns and sheds are over one hundred years old, they are falling down and things are falling down inside them as well. I swore to stay outside of all structures, which is apparently a great idea since families of woodchucks and raccoons have taken over the space. Spiders, too, I’ll bet.
And they are astoundingly beautiful.
The buildings. Not the spiders.
Now, I HAVE always felt that woodchucks are truly handsome creatures, but perhaps I am straying…
When I started to process this bunch, I made myself a promise: no fussing with the colors. The reds are not pumped up, but truly pop this way on the weathered gray boards.
I will pack smelling salts in my camera bag when I go back, because I am going to be doing some serious swooning.