Elements Of Visual Texture

Cities, towns and suburbs are defined by certain

visual elements. Concrete, glass, asphalt, plastic wood.

Linear, geometric, precise, angular.

Farms and ag districts are defined by wide array of ever changing

visual elements. Without doubt concrete, glass, wood are major aspects

of many old farm houses and barns. Yet there's also softer

visually random rubble stone, cobblestone and dry stack stone in walls
and foundations. Far from linear, geometric or angular - tho precision

of skill and placement is essential if they are to survive.

So even at 'ground level' the visual input on the farm differs.

 The true sirens' song of ever changing visual textural beauty on the farm

belongs to the fields and woodlands. Alongside livestock and crop planting

nature creates her own vignettes. Painting the paths with grasses tall and soft

or waxed and shining in the sun. Wildflowers that mock my efforts to 'garden'.

 Rock strewn paths that have been part of this farm since the 1800's are the work
of nature and time. Color, texture, depth of contrast ~ mossy rockery, species mixes abound. There are hundred and hundred of variations on these acres. Shape and color variants are too numerous to count.

From a vibrant splash of color in the wild berries to deer runs. Varied shapes of animal tracks, domestic and wild decorate the stream mud and the sheltered woods. Deep and verdant green in the tree and rock moss. Endless shape, size, types of large rock along the paths, amid the wood lots.

Some moved, located by those who farmed or grazed the land generations before my time. Some randomly arranged in ancient glacial days and never (ever) touched or altered.

Magic

In the years I've walked, worked, rested, explored, sought center and dreamed on this farm I've discovered that time is another 'texture' that is a visual element on the farm....

Less angular, geometric, reflective.
More soft, swaying, seasonal.

Always changed, yet ever the same.

Flowing yet static, stable.

Perhaps, all combined, what I see here is the visual texture of time?

It's Been One Of Those Days....

1) The toilet filler valve was leaking - replaced

2) New one fills so slow seasons change between tank fills

3)Replaced again with another new filler

4) See two

(no, I'm not kidding)

All set to paint and now, just as I have days free to paint

it's going to

rain

Sort of a twist your shorts day for certain

I'm going for a walk in the low pasture

amid views like this

(how they've survived this drought I know not)!

And whilst I walk
I'll re-re-re-re-remind myself of the difference

between real problems and simple knicker-twisting annoyances

The toilet will fill properly eventually

More paint will be put on, just later than  I  had planned

 I'm off to the low pasture now ~ taking my camera
(for more pics ~ would you like to see)?

PS *I'm now officially done whining, lol*

Thanks for listening :-)

Inherent Happiness

There is an inherent happiness, a soothing flow to life, amid the days on this farm. Not to infer such contentment can not or does not fill other hearts in different  settings with the same heartfelt ease. Indeed over the course of my life I've found happiness in other settings, other locations. Still my heart knows the full range of ease, the inherent reliable sustained happiness, is tethered to this unique amalgam, this place, this farm. These fields, woods, pastures, house, objects, barns, ghosts, animals, past, present and future are magic for me, to me, surrounding me.

The sun behaves differently in this valley.  The old cow pastures remain green from their generations here. Those pastures are intense with a depth of green that can not be delivered by  a contract with chem-lawn.

There are whispers of the past. Whispers from generations of lives that unfolded her and accumulated and layered their stories. Weathered wood. Hand worn  wood. Stair treads that are ever so gently cupped in the center from hundreds of thousands of trips up and down them by footfalls large and small.

Forgotten objects uncovered in corners and attics and in turned earth. Glass that should exists only in shards and fragments that flash from the soil as a glint in the sun and emerge unfathomably intact. *the image below is of such a piece*  Time machines, these pieces. My mind, or my heart, can not resist the mystery. The wondering game of who brought this here? Who touches it last? How did it come, sans obvious breakage, to be discarded here amid this field? How, oh how, did it survive unscathed in the many ensuing years?!

So many mysteries. Such a sense of time, ongoing,  An owl feather found. Crows that follow me. Pieces of glass, of metal, of horse harness, of life and times I can only image as I wend my way back to chosen aspects of their way of life. I plant my (few) crops. Pin the laundry to the cotton lines. Speak to the swallows. Listen to the woods.  Find the ferns.  Listen. Learn. Understand what matters.  Work intensely, sleep well. The food on the table is real. The bread from my hand, my oven  is real. The water drawn up from the ground is cold. I'm the current chapter in the story of the life of these fields, house, barn, birds, breeze....

Perhaps one day someone will wonder about me, about my life here on this land, in this old house.

This farm, nestled in this valley is magic. I suspect it always was. And now, its magic is for me.

Inherent happiness.

in·her·ent/inˈhi(ə)rənt/

Adjective:

Existing in something as a permanent, essential, or characteristic attribute

“He stood breathing, and the more he breathed the land in, the more he was filled up with all the details of the land. He was not empty. There was more than enough here to fill him.

There would always be more than enough.” 

Ray Bradbury 

I'd Meant To Tell You #3

Remember my pot(ty)ing shed adventure!?

Update! It now has a new tin roof....

Cute as a bug and one step closer to

becoming my curious little farm-history-preserved
potting/garden tool shed, lol

Quirky isn't the exception
it's the RULE in my kingdom, lol

It's Simply A Matter Of Priori~huh?

 I'm aware (and oft read) that it's a simple matter of prioritizing ones' way to efficiency.
Indeed?

In my world it's a bit more priori~huh? (as opposed to prioritize, lol)
It's not so much a question of setting task to list.
The problem is where in the list tasks belong, you see.
Apples and oranges confused comparison.

 There's the painting ~ ongoing & never-ending (lol) ~ of the old girls' exterior.

The numerous remaining beautiful old windows that need caulking still.

Barn lofts to finish clearing.

Attic corners yet to organize.

Porch repairing and 'spiffing' to be done (period fretwork found!)

Woodwork to be oiled.

Summer Kitchen porch floor (remember that post?) to be stenciled.

Bread to be made and baked (did you know there are stats confirming

 the cost - even with energy fees included -

 showing home-baked bread is half of the cost of commercial bread)?

Not to mention the aroma and 'yum' factor, lol

There are walks needed to ponder where the bees will beeeeeeee living/hiving

Where the chickens will eventually live/roost/lay/peck.

And this above is the 'short list' of to do's

Now I ask you, how do you prioritize such a list?
Ah yes, that's how I arrive at
"priori-HUH"?

Never Lonely

I'm always a bit surprised when people mention to me that living on a farm

must be isolating, lonely, worrisome.  I suspect a certain portion of

that reaction comes from the obvious ~ compared to the city or

suburbs the vastness of nearly 50 acres (tho very small by true farming standard)

is so unfamiliar that the pure distance and space around me strike them as significantly

'alone'

Then there is the very real connection of 'life to living' in that on a farm you are required to interact intensely with the reality of your day to day needs (and those of your crops and livestock if you have either). Tho wells and pests (aka varmints) and large broken equipment  are not unheard of in city or suburbia they are somewhat, or totally, dealt with by others. A phone call to landlord or repairman.

So to be certain, whatever degree of farming/equipment/livestock/water/building repair there is in a farm it is almost always something you deal with directly. Hiring someone is often impossible and if found the ongoing costs would break the bank.

So you learn, you read, you watch, you try and fail. Try and succeed.

You quickly learn the words 'budget' and 'save' and 're-use'.

The phrase let nothing go to waste from water to material to time becomes a mantra for survival.

But lonely? No not at all. 

The amazing thing about people who always have or eventually choose to live close to the land, to be close to the seasons, watchful of water from rainfall and rain barrel, winter melt to rain-shower embrace the concept and practice of commuity. The sharing of it all.

Neighbors are not the next people down the road. Neighbors are people who care. Who teach. Who ask how you are and then actually listen. Neighbors in farmland share news about fox sightings if you have chickens. We all show up to help each other with roof jobs. We loan equipment, we find (and leave to be found) things on each others' porches that are useful or needed or to give a bit of cheer in hard times. Yes, there sometimes is the bad person, bad event. Such is life anywhere.

But day in, day out, season after season, the mentoring, the laughter, the shared stories of hard work, big barns, talk of fox and bear, worries over rain and wells are the norm. Kitchens in Ag districts in the middle of nowhere sill fill with the aroma of handmade bread. Laundry still floats and drifts on clotheslines rather than in dryers with softener sheets.

Days pass quickly, nites pass quietly.

And when there's time to visit, to talk, to learn to compare notes while visiting it's heartfelt and wonderful. The people here have hearts as big as the acres that surround this farm. I am so far from lonely because I sit right in the middle of acres of caring kindness. Life here is good. Hard work with tremendous responsibility, but filled with good people.

A Saturday Morning Farm Joy

A warm cup of coffee
A moment of sun

Three Barn Swallows
Exploring the sky

This morning they were swooping

over the cornfield with precision and beauty.
And unfettered joy.
Watching them the farm again

whispers to me

"The world of man whines and clamors of disaster

but life moves forward, unaffected, based upon

the real, true, honest things"....

The farm is old, wise, sometimes tired.
She is gentle and she is harsh.
She is life and death.
She is sorrow and she is joy.

She is both fulfilling and exhausting.
The farm is a demanding dream.

But always she is a teacher

for

the

willing

student.

I'd Love To Build A Garden

In this pattern

The Spiral would be the pathway

of stone or brick or bark or paver

with flowers on either side

I have ever and always been drawn, felt connected

to the ancient symbol of the spiral

It is a visual representation of my heart & soul

whenever I was turned inward

traveling deeper into myself

to sort things out

to ponder

to understand

to hide

to heal

to catch my breath

to strategize
to dream

to relocate my core

my 'center'

It is equally accurate as a visual icon

for times when

I am moving outward

outside my core

to share

to teach

to adventure

to learn

to breathe deeply of the world around myself

to take chances

to dream

to dare

With a good strong invisible lanyard

to my center, to my lifes' core

There are no limits to the outward reach of a spiral

And center is always exactly where you left it

At the core
At the middle
Where you start from,

Where you return to
Always

Yes, indeed, I  think using

the simple, ancient, beloved spiral

I could create

 a remarkable and symbolic garden....

Now I need only decide what to place

at the center

at the point of alpha and omega

A flowering tree?

A bench?

A statue?

A fountain?

Nothing at all?

Hmmmmmm.....

I'll have to ponder that point a bit further

(Your thoughts and suggestions are warmly welcomed)!

You Never Know

What will stroll by at the farmhouse! lol

I was out weeding when I caught movement
on my little road from the corner of my eye.

Out came the camera to capture

and share with you my not-very-old

out for a stroll (and a bit of fresh grass munching)

visitor

He/she was not the least bit bothered by me
or my camera. I just missed a great shot of her

looking at my pile of weeds as tho she were

asking

"if you're not going to eat those my I have them"? lol

I think with a bit of a coax she would have come over

to much on the freshly pulled pile of weeds and deadheaded bits.
Tho truth be told I wouldn't want her to become
to human friendly. That would be bad for

him/her come hunt season and I suspect bad

for me and my flowers/garden all season roflmao

I'd Meant to tell you #2

The other day

(I beg you not to query which or what
day it was for I'm I'm 'oft found unable to pin
the proper 'day-name to a given moment in time)

It's my favorite way for time to be - full yet unconfined....

So, the other day while pulling and preening images of the farm

which comprise the pages to the book of my life here I found this shot.
Tucked amid the curious & heartwarming & harsh & comforting &

the immediate of my now within
the ever-long-reaching timeline of the farm herself
I found this image.

It's an oddly angled shot of the farms' coffin door and her main door
A picture I took in the very early days after my arrival.
Odd. Not the finest composition nor quality.
 This image has filtered past my vision more times that I could recall

It's a simple unassuming shot

The other day, for reasons I have learned not to question
it had something to say.

Something to tell me

as it appeared yet again

as it hovered dutifully before me

It struck me as somehow different.

What I knew instinctively is that the image was no different than ever it has been.

What I've come to understand (because farm taught and I listened ~ eventually)
is that I have changed & with that I am able to see, to connect, to understand,

to grasp the message within this image...

What I'd meant to tell you is

that this picture so long ago captured
reminded me there are almost always

two doors to choose from

One door you may desire ~ the other not a bit

One may call to you, yet you find it locked

It may be you enter one door
only to exit from the door opposite

You could go in one door and exit from neither....

And there's even the possibility of

hovering between
the two doors
lost in evaluation

or frozen in fear

considering options
and outcomes
looking for some guarantee

Options require choices
Choices are 'oft neither simple nor clear
Evaluation and Fear should  not
Be confused, one for the other

This pictures's been patiently waiting
to tell me or perhaps remind me
of all of these things

And I'd meant to tell, to share, with you...

Text and Image by FIDF Copyright 2012

Have You Guessed Yet?

Well even if you haven't I'll tell you lol
Thanks to clever insanity

I have a three-seater outhouse

to restore and then use as my

garden building!

I'm thrilled that this genuine

intact little building that is
so part of farm history

from times long gone

is now safe & finding repurpose.....

Never a dull moment, lol that's for certain!

This weekend is long ~  overflowing with opportunities to enjoy the simple contentments
of life...

Perhaps a stroll down a quiet lane?

It may be you prefer a concert in the open?
Or a PARADE!

Or a visit with family or friends in their home or yours?

Endless possibilities to create memories....

~ ~ ~

Whatever you do, wherever you go

setting the politics of war aside
take a moment to respect and honor
the service and sacrifice 

of those past and present in the military who serve
combat, medic, ancillary support, news core

Each and every serving in great danger

all serving away from family, friends, home

all serving while we enjoy this long weekend

Take a moment to honor
those who will return home heart heavy

from what they have seen

those who have and will return injured, bodies broken

Most of all spend a moment to honor those who

will never

return at all

Never

Much there is to celebrate, enjoy, honor, ponder
On MEMORIAL DAY weekend

Magic

Oh!

Can you hear them?!

My croaking minstrels of the pond & stream

have begun their twilight concert

Look at the picture above,
look down one of the roads of my beloved farm

close your eyes and imagine you are here with me
on the long porch, rocking gently in a tired

but lovingly repainted chair

Feel the cool glass, ice quietly melting, in your hand
Breathe deeply as the gentle nearly-night-breeze moves by us

Smile, as one by one the water minstrels

Sing their magical melodies

To you
To me

To each other

To anyone who pauses to listen

Sometimes
the world is calm
Sometimes life

IS

perfect

 

Old friends

Sometimes

  Old friends

Find

Each

Other

 

One best for sitting under, One made to rest upon

Both are ancient maple

Who've sung such different songs

Now in the twilight

of their lives, so different

yet so bound

They share a kinship

side by side
in days beneath the clouds

The old tree welcomes company
Upon his friend the chair

The chair is thrilled he's useful still
Now out in open air

At first it seemed to many "odd"

to see these two together

they fretted chair would wear away

due to inclement weather

I held my ground, for chair, for tree
for unconventionality

and oft I sit

on chair

'neath tree

(I'm third to share

their reverie)
*Image and text copyright FIDF*

Farm oh-so-not-diva accessories

If you live upon a farm

there are certain items you

must equip yourself with...
The list is long (and odd at times lol)

Here are two of the basics on the list
of  non-optional necessities

for newbie farm dwellers
(or farm visitors)!

Not lovely, never to be viewed
in Glamor or Vogue.

But deny the need for these items on the farm

at your own peril lol

1). Muck/Mud/Wet Grass/Animal Poo/Field Grass/Burdock/Resistant Boots
To the knee sort of boots

Rubber or stout flexible plastic that will endure scrubbing
(because you will wash them ~ often! lol)
Handles are a nice 'extra'

2). Corn husk brooms
(each of these you own will be worn to a frazzle ever so quickly)

Used to:

Chase/Shoo/Heard/High Dust

(to name just a handful of the numerous uses for said brooms)

*chickens and geese DO avoid the broom*

Farm gear, much like farm life, is wonderful
it just isn't appealing to fashion divas  ;-)

On A Cool & Rainy Monday

On this cool and rainy Monday I treated myself
to catching up on blog reading (so enjoyed)
and editing some quasi-recent images to share.
Some hither and thither views from around
the 'old girl' that I hope you'll enjoy!

Spring = PROJECTS so there'll be much more
to share in the coming weeks (amid my advil
groans :-)

PS there are images of more clapboard scraping
pre-painting too ~ but they're far from lovely to
view lol so I spared you those!

Happy rain-filled-Monday from me to you....

It's a great life if you don't weaken

I bid thee farewell
sad news and bad news
offered up on platters
of airwave, digital text
(and the few remaining printed pages)

For past days many, weeks winding
and months marching
you have been a steady companion
while the old girl and I weathered
another winter more ~ together

Just yesterday, as May made her way
back to the farm again
I heard a knock upon the door

and found Spring waiting, full of hope
full of promise in spite of a winters' worth
of nay-saying-ramblers

Mother natures' May mentioned (in a warm wind whisper)
"it has always and ever will be so"
Sad news and bad news run rampant
yet one can (one must) set it aside

Set the hoplessness aside
when once again May comes calling
choose to dance

with Spring
and hope

come May

When on your porch-step
when at your door-step
May comes knocking
choose her....

Verse/text/images by IDF 2012

If April Showers Bring May Flowers....

What will a massive painful April Snowstorm bring?

The damage was unavoidable as mother nature had lured

the unsuspecting blooms to embrace the oh-so-early

warmth and sun...

Branches and blooms fell prey to the snow and wind.

Despite my hours spent shaking limbs free from snow
Despite my efforts in the aid of my rooted friends
some were, despite all assistance, harmed.

I choose to think they'd have been harmed more had I

not done what I could ~ but 'tis heartbreaking still to witness

the joy of Spring set back by Winters' willfulness.
Difficult to see times' growth undone
With a wrenting tear none can repair...

Yet Spring, Winter, Trees of Pink (and I)

know Spring will have the last word

(eventually)

As they say in my beloved New England
Spring comes
"wicked slow"
to some parts of the land...

 

Simple Work Full Soul

There is an elemental soothing

a renewal of the inner being

found within comparative simplicity

(hence my term simple work).

Sans computer, sans software

beyond the reach of text or tweet

hand to flour, milk and egg

(hence my label simple work)

Glorious, straighforward, free

water, yeast, loaves rising free

unfetterd by technology

The oven warms, the towels are draped

my gaze is drawn to window-scape

the field fresh turned

the crows approve

For these few hours time is stopped

it hovers in overlap

it could be any year in this old farmhouse

this old kitchen, with these timeworn bowls

For a heartbeat of history

I am connected, interlaced in purpose

with each of the women before me

who have stood

here

looking out this window

in this kitchen

hands covered in flour

with the tic-tic-tic of their oven warming.

Blessed be, simplicity

your joys, all but lost to haste

are under-rated

**Wheat and basic white breads in my image of recent bread baking**

Text & Images by IDF 2012