by Ruth Categories: PhotographyTags: abandoned, farmhouse, mailbox, ohio, photography, postaday 4 Comments
Ohio Farmhouse at Dawn
It’s empty now. It will be demolished soon. Making way for….
Storms a Coming by Jane Miller – Guest Blogger
Storms a coming.
by Jane Miller
My husband and I live with his mother in an old farmhouse with parts dating back to 1842. Except for the window lined porch that faces west, the house is structurally the way it was 100 years ago when the third generation of the Hunter family lived here. Their ancestors were a Scottish Presbyterian family who cleared this portion of Depreciation Lands.
Often my thoughts go to life as it may have been stretched out over a nearly 200 year history when the family sustained themselves with their labors in the fields and there were horses in the barn. Now the horses are gone. The farm is in transition. Our work of the day includes for me, the care giving for my mother-in-law, Lois—almost 90—and the patients my husband “sees” on a computer in his office that was at one time our dining room and in generations past, a kitchen. The beauty of the evolving nature is one constant. We especially enjoy our summer evenings.
On one of the first warm nights this year we sat together on the back deck after mom was in bed, I grieved the loss of the horses and a pasture plowed under by Farmer Beahm, who will soon plant field corn. The sun was heading for its sweet spot between the tree-lined hills as clouds gathered bits of gray.
I remembered an evening nearly 35 years ago on May 31, 1985, the evening a 25-mile long twister took out the trees of that hill and my mother and father-in-law, along with our three-year-old son, hit the basement. I think they wanted a room with windows to better see a storm a coming in addition to daily witnessing the beauty of nature.
On this May evening—one of the first ones a coat and blanket not needed—another storm was brewing. It was May 12, just before the world began opening up to our “new normal” and all of the unknowns this will bring. Then in the skies, a real storm collected clouds and we were fascinated as we watched where the sun would soon disappear in the West. Rick had a Scotch in his hand. I had my camera.
The beauty of the moment mesmerized us and we didn’t heed the warnings of the winds. Our eyes were on the skies, when rain pelted us. For the moment we laughed through the winds, making sure my camera was safe and Rick anchored down the furniture we had to evacuate.
I thought of the storms of the past and the ones that are brewing and a word came to my mind about life on the farm. Resilience. Crops fail. You replant. Animals that sustain you will die. It’s not a moment to moment feeling. It’s a joy that doesn’t depend upon what is happening to you. It’s about being grateful for every moment in every time.
Life goes on and it’s always day by day. Farmers look for their rewards at the end of the day.
My Artist Friend Joan and her Thread Collection
Joan has an array of thread colors and some are silky and some are shimmery.
So many different types of thread.
She makes beautiful fiber art,
and draws in ink.
Watch for her Female Martyr Series this summer.
You’ve seen Joan looking at Larimer School where she used to teach Art.
Even her pincushions are interesting.
An older photo of the thread collection
and Joan on her back porch. Her garden is so interesting. Will have to do a photo tour.
Joan grows the best rhubarb and puts up delicious apricot preserves.
Front Porch Still-Life at Dusk
Old seltzer bottles, a birdcage, the texture of the wicker, some stained glass at dusk. J’s front porch with the sun sinking behind. Condensation inside the old glass, the metal tops. Artists usually arrange inanimate objects to create a still-life to paint or draw. This was already there, waiting. But then it is an artist’s house.