tin roof

The tin roof of an old barn shines in the sunlight like a new dime. The shiny roof seems to opppose the weathered barnwood.

The awards dinner last evening was wonderful experience. Director Jerry Johnson has committed his life to the endeavors at Garfield Farm Museum, and his hand is evident in all the good things the organization brings to our community. Just to my right at dinner sat a new employee of the farm museum, Patty. She's an assistant site manager and a very interesting young woman.

She asked a very good question, basically wanting to know where I get my inspiration and how I decide what to photograph. It's curious that it's not something I've spent alot of time pondering, and I was quite surprised at how easily my answer tumbled out of my mouth, "My deadline is my inspiration." And that is true. When you impose a deadline upon yourself each and every day, you are force to be constantly scanning, thinking of possible images.

For an example, Patty loved the photo posted on April 6, entitled "Vintage". It depicts a length of chain type material hanging on a wall. Here's how that image came about - knowing I needed to shoot an image for the following day I ate my lunch at Peck Farm Park and wandered around in search of inspiration. The chain material was hanging on the wall of a shed and it occurred to me that framed correctly it almost appeared to be an art installation of sorts. I snapped the shot.

The deadline forces you to create something from nothing at times. Thanks Patty for the interesting question. The museum is lucky indeed to have such an enthusastic and capable employee. You are a wonderful ambassador for the organization.

award

I am extremely proud to announce that this evening "The Farmers Wife" photoblog will receive an award at the 18th annual dinner and awards ceremony hosted by the Friends of Garfield Farm Museum. The board of the museum has voted to present the blog their "2006 Agricultural Preservation Award" stating, "Your documentation to an internet wide audience of the changes in rural life that are engulfing our community will be a valuable future record. These awards are established to bring attention and publicity to efforts that parallel Garfield Farm Museum's three themes: history, farming and the environment."

This holds special meaning for me because it comes from a dedicated group whose work I greatly admire.

In addition, the award is important for the larger world of bloggers who struggle to gain credibility. A former CBS new executive described bloggers as, "guys sitting in their living rooms in their pajamas, writing and publishing."

Blogging in fact levels the playing field, allowing anyone with a computer and internet access to have a voice. The challenge remaining is to find interesting subject matter, hopefully something you love and are passionate about. If you can do this, chances are that your message will resonate with readers.

And yes, I publish regularly in my pajamas, and it doesn't detract from my statements. Thanks to all my loyal readers.

The photo above is the fenceline at Garfield Farm Museum.

vintage

I'm forced to dip into my archives. Life has been busy the last few days, not allowing for any creative endeavors.

Being the inveterate gearhead that I am, it's wonderful to drive around and spot vintage cars, either parked on the side of the road with a for sale sign, or sitting in a barn or shed waiting patiently for the farmer to meet up with the restorer. There are at least two little TR-3's hanging out with the mice in nearby sheds, and Josie has an MGB that was driven up into her hay loft years ago. It sits in the corner surrounded by the antiques that she sells on weekends.

Personally I'm always looking to spot a Karmann Ghia - one of the cars I let get away many years ago. Fun little ride - my Ghia pet.

seed corn

DeKalb seed corn is delivered on a flat bed trailer at the edge of a field, in preparation for planting. The tractor is harrowing the field and the second tractor with the planting machinery will arrive soon.

All eyes are on the skies and everyone is nervous that there might be a repeat of last years drought. I've never in my life seen corn so stressed. The normally soft, arching leaves were pointing like daggers at the sky, pleading for moisture. Many of the fields were sacrified and turned into silage, so as not to lose everything.

My Favorites

As you can see, I've used the plural form of the word simply because it proved too difficult to choose just one photo. It's like trying to name your favorite child - impossible.

I've chosen a photo that represents some themes I try to cover. The first is "Weather" which typifies the struggle between the farmer and natural elements.



Next is my photo of local businessman R.F. Houtz. This photo is very special to me because it depicts the country way of doing business, what I'll call the "sit-a-spell" method.



The county fair photo is a slice of Americana.



The photo of the young woman and the steer is an example of the symbiotic relationship between the farmer and his animals. It also shows determination of a 100 lb. human handling a 1,300 lb. steer.



The photo of the volunteer fireman filling their tanker with water is my example of the volunteer and help-your-neighbor spirit that supports the rural community.



Thanks to all for traveling with me this past year. If you're in the area please support the Burlington, Illinois volunteer fire department next Sunday, April 23, 2006 when they hold their annual pancake breakfast. All you can eat for $5. Debbie will be doing the toast, Rock will be flipping pancakes and Twinnie will be frying up the bacon.

Thanks again from my little corner of the world.

between water and sky

Development creeps in, sandwiched between water and sky. The developments jump major roads and water hazards, inching westward. Every so often there's a shift and the building explodes with the speed of a prairie fire.

Continuing with Favorites. Bully writes that among the favorites are Fog (March 7), Hiking (March 4) and Weather (Sept. 26). But then there's list...so hard to choose Bully lists:

Change of Seasons (Jan. 31), evokes much sadness. The passing of one way of life.
Oxblood Red - Nov. 12
Winter Light - Dec. 15
Feather Ligth - Nov. 8
Windpower - Oct. 27
Entrepreneur - Oct. 23
Lonely Tree - Oct. 22
Shocks - Oct 20
Fall (in golden mist) - Oct. 14
Fully Involved - (the barn fire) - Oct. 11
Ribbon of Road - Sept. 23
Blue Highway - Sept. 6
Observation Silo - Sept. 15

SRP listed her favorite as Attractive posted on July 23.

Check back tomorrow when I attempt to choose my favorite photo.

looking forward

I'm looking forward to continuing as long as there's something interesting to shoot and write about. Publishing daily presents an interesting challenge that certainly keeps your mind alert and open to what's going on in your community.

The readers are a big part of what drives an effort such as this.

Reader Donna is also a local resident, living in nearby LaFox. Her beautiful property has been featured several times in the last year. This tiny town is truly a jewel and Donna's historic home, barn and outbuildings are the centerpiece. LaFox will struggle every day from this point on, as more than 1,500 homes and townhouses are scheduled to be built, encircling the small historic downtown and changing forever the fabric of the place. Check out March 10, October 31 and December 8th.

My friend the Cracker found an entry on December 6, entitled "Fresh Snow" as his favorite. He decribes it as a Curried and Ives image. I agree, it was such a beautiful scene, who could resist?

Juli, otherwise known as the Girl on a Glide weighs in with the following:
4.13.05: The Family Plot - I love how the dearly departed are still a part of the farm. Their headstones seem to serve as a reminder of how and why.
4.27.05: Baby Doll - The sheep has a gentle smile for the camera and appears to be a stuffed animal. Precious.
7.22.05: Corn Rows - I appreciate this photo because it's a new perspective. A view I've never seen. It appears magical, otherworldly. It makes me feel small.
11.15.05: Day and Night - A silent statement. Says more than words.
I Love checking for your updates, your photos and the impressions you share both visually and wordly. :)

We will continue tomorrow, so be sure to check in!

atmospheric

Nothing of interest, except a sky the color of a rare gem. It's such a boost to the spirit after what seems like an eternity of grey.

Today I will continue the one year celebration with the help of loyal readers.

Val Jack wrote that her favorite was from November 1, 2005, "Rough Road". She says, "The picture with its arching trees & the road disappearing over the rise. I love going on road trips and this reminds me of the fun & adventure of being lost on a back road, unsure where it's heading to & hoping another car or town isn't too far away. I've been lost many a time on our roads around here & towns are a long distance in between, so that's not a good thing."

I know the feeling exactly Val. One day I decided to pick a highway and follow it as far as it would take me - - I ended up at the Mississippi River than afternoon!

Sheila says that Coal Train (March 5, 2006) and Moon Dog (Jan. 14, 2006) were among her favorites. "Your blog is a treasure island. You keep it marvelously simple which just adds to its beauty."

Tim Rice, who publishes Ramblings love the photos of kids and their farm animals, taken at Garfield Farms Rare Breeds Show (May 23rd, 2005). I know that Tim loves kids, so I knew that these would be among his favorites.

Join me again tomorrow for a few more favorites.

And please accept my sincere thanks for making the Farmers Wife a part of your day.

head on down the highway

This bike belongs to a local man. It's a V-12. Yes, you heard me right...V-12.

Continuing on our list of Farmers Wife favorites....

Nancy Bea Miller weighs in with the choice of Sept 26 entitled "Weather". She writes, "It's a great photo and I love your observation that perhaps Illinois should be know as Pretty Big Sky Country." Her husband is from Illinois and they come back for family gatherings, etc.

Pablo, the publisher of Round Rock Journal chose October 12, Volunteer as his favorite. He writes, "I love the lighting in that photo. It is absolutely perfect, and the narrative that accompanies it illustrates perfectly the nature of small town & rural living."

Pablo, that photo is one of my favorites also. Beyond the perfect lighting it was a very dramatic scene, a roaring barn fire about a mile away and volunteer firemen ferrying back and forth to fill their water trucks.

Adrian Hudson, from Devon, U.K. votes for October 22, the Lonely Tree. He says he's a sucker for lonely tree shots. He has half a hard disk full of them!! Bravo Adrian. I have "lonely tree" wallpaper image on my cell phone, that's how much I love them.

more favorites

Carrie from Anoka, Minnesota writes that her favorites photos are /Faith and Lily Lake Cemetery both published in December 2005. She says, "I grew up in a small Minnesota town & spent my childhood attending events with family & friends at small country churches in Minnesota & North Dakota. The pictures make me reflect back to those times & in my mind that is what pictures are meant to do."

I agree, and am so glad that those pictures struck a chord with you.

Alissa writes, "I have been a loyal visitor to your site since last summer. I don't
comment much at all, but I do visit nearly every day. I love your photos.
I don't have time to search, but I can tell you right off the top of
my head which photo is my favorite. John Deere tractor (or maybe it was a
combine), out in the field, with a storm cloud coming up fast in the
background. You know which one I'm talking about?" YES Alissa, it's the photo on May 15th Nothing Runs Like a Deere and it's one of my favorites also. I remember the sense of danger as the storm approached from the west.

Check back tomorrow for more Farmers Wife Favorites.

did you hear the news??

It was one year ago today that the Farmers Wife was launched. At the time I thought, let's see if I can come up with something interesting and see how long I can maintain the site. There are dog days when there doesn't seem to be anything interesting going on, and days when the grey pall moves in turning everything the color of mud.

All in all it's been an interesting journey. My husband is now well trained. When he sees me grab the camera bag he turns and says, "Perfect light?" ... yep, occasionally perfect light.

My sincere thanks to everyone who take the time out of their day to check in. I hope you find our little part of the world beautiful, or at least interesting. I've met some wonderful people and learned alot about my community.

Thanks also to all those who accepted the invitation to compile a list of Farmers Wife Favorites. It's interesting to discover why photos touch a chord. I'll start the favorite list today and continue through the week.


KAT chose a photo from October 23rd entitled, Enterpreneur. She says, "The colors in the barn are such a contrast to the pumpkins below."


The Farmer from Denmark chose October 19, Archaeologist. He says, "Archaeologists ask good questions. Did we ever get the full answer?"
- No we didn't, but I've met the group that owns this barn so I will ask them the history the next time I meet up with them.

Watch tomorrow for more Favorites. And thanks again to all of you for making this journey so much fun. Please forgive the fact that Blogger seems to be having issues and won't allow me to link to anything "Blogger".

airstream at sunset

Returning from a day trip we passed a vintage Airstream. The sun was going down in a dramatic show and some of the beautiful light reflected on the side of the old trailer. It didn't look to be in the best of condition, but one could just imagine that with a little spit and polish it would once again shine.

carving out a space

The old farmhouse is stranded, high and dry. The heavy equipment has carefully carved out the rich black topsoil and underlying clay. It creates a platform on which to display the home. Whereas before it looked lonely sitting on the empty land, it now looks fanciful and silly - a giant wedding cake on a bed of cinnamon and chocolate, waiting to be decorated.

The house was spared the wrecking balls that took the barns and silo. And now it seems, evidenced by the care to preserve it in place, that it will probably be moved to another site.

It will be exciting to see the home take on a new life, and once again be surrounded by trees that anchor to the land.

vintage

It seems we are not allowed more than one day of sunshine in northern Illinois. Today we are back to depresseing greyness. At least the grass is greening up after the last rain, but there doesn't seem to be anything interesting to photograph.

And so, I'm forced into a barn for subject matter. This interesting piece hangs in the barn at Peck Farm Park and looks all the world like a tribal necklace. And for the life of me, I have no idea what equipment this might have been a part of.

It does illustrate how everyday items can take on the aura of art.

I will title this piece, "Vintage Farm Cast-Off".

concert for one

It was a clear and warm day in northern Illinois, and I decided to take a ride to Peck Farm Park and climb the circular staircase inside the silo that has been converted to an observation building. There are three levels, with windows at each platform, looking out onto the prairie, lake and presentation barn.

As you can imagine sound reverberates inside the concrete structure. My shoes clanked against the metal stairs, as I climbed to the second level and snapped some photos. There was a sound.....someone was on the level above me. I took a few more photos and decided whether to climb further. Standing at the next curve of stairs, the entire building suddenly filled with the most haunting music. I was mesmerized. The sound reminded me of a native American flute, haunting...plaintive notes echoed off the walls surrounding me and literally vibrating in every direction.

The music continued, fading and rising, warbling lightly and the next moment gone...silence. I stood stock still, unable and unwilling to move. I thought for a moment about whether to climb up, not wanting to invade this musicians space. But I had to thank him for the concert.

I resisted the temptation to satisfy my curiousity... who was he, why was he here, how often does he come here to play? Usually I want to know everything, but the music was so perfect and stood alone in that perfection. He did show me the flute, a Japanese Shakuhachi, something entirely new to me.

Climbing back down the staircase I left him to his music. The notes floated through the building, out the doorway and across the prairie, fading as it moved along the grassy hillside.

If you go here, you can read all about the Shakuhachi flute and listen to one being played. They say that it's used in Zen Buddhist meditation, and this evening I am meditating about the improbability of experiencing an impromptu Shakuhachi concert in a grain silo!

function

The Illinois Central once passed along this grade. The track and ties are long gone and the county has created a path for bicycles, hikers and joggers.

The original underpasses remain and although they are quite small, farmers continue to use them as passage to the roadway. As you drive by the concrete form of the underpass creates a frame around the rural scene.

curves

Horrible weather is sweeping across the midwest, leaving communities destroyed and lives lost. Yesterday was grey and wet in northern Illinois, but elsewhere big trouble was brewing.

Our son called from central Illinois where he was visiting his sister at college. He said that he was delaying the departure for home - the sky just to the west was black and clouds had begun to swirl, moving in a way that could only spell danger.

Mother Nature demands respect. All the work of man can be destroyed in an instant. Our egocentric minds believe we have things under control, which is a foolish thought actually. She can throw you a curve at any time.

cultures

My intention this morning was to take two photographs to illustrate the clash of culture that is occurring in our area. Heavily developed and rural agricultural communities are living side-by-side without a buffer zone of any type. I remember traveling from the open ocean to the inner coastline of Belize, and understanding the importance of the dense Mangrove swamps with buffered the transition between salt and fresh water ecospheres. In culture, as in nature, this buffer zone is important.

I intended an mildly amusing post demonstrating my premise that we are perhaps the only place in the United States where a Coach handbag store.......



stands within 2.5 miles of this scene:



which is Johnsen's Livestock Feed and Supply store - closed on Wednesdays, by the way.

I was running a few errands early so stores at the lifestyle mall were closed when I pulled in front of Coach to snap the photo. What happened next slammed me back into the reality of this culture-encroaching-culture scenario. I sat there for less than two minutes, and one unmarked and one marked security detail approached. I was stunned and pulled away slowly, they followed for quite a distance and then turned away to attend to some other danger, real or imagined.

We have chosen our communities because we value the connection, trust and cooperation that they provide. The advancing development is bringing the opposite - mistrust, crime and suspicion and people who are disconnected. Does crime exist in rural communities? Yes, but rarely in our community and even more rarely committed by someone in our midst. you are not very likely to commit a crime against a man you know, and one whom you might need to depend on for your survival.

The Johnsen's employ a security force also - a big dog that runs out to the roadway and barks at you a bit. There lies the difference and hence there lies the problem for us.

approaching storm

We've visited this farmhouse several times in the past year. I pass it every morning and every evening. The sight of it bothers me terribly, standing all alone at the edge of what was once a corn and soybean field.

It never occurred to me to take a photo when it was still among the living, two summers ago. It was simply that nice white farmhouse, invisible in it's normalcy. One day workmen moved in and made short work of the beautiful mature trees that hugged the home in a protective gesture. The huge oaks stood to the right of the house, and a few more trees out front. It's hard to remember actually.

The next morning I was startled at the sight of the house standing alone. Without the protection and soft green frame of the oaks the home looked cold and foreboding. Now they've dug a deep trench to the left and rear of the house. A strange moat whose purpose for now remains a mystery.

The barns and silos are gone, they've spared the house for some reason.

artifact

The smell of acrid smoke rises as my shoes crunch over the burned grasses at Peck Farm Park. A sinuous swath of the prairie has recently been set afire, not in a destructive action but to clear the way for new growth. The blackened burned out field will soon be bright green with new growth.

The fire moved fast and hot, so fast in fact that an old log was barely singed and certainly never caught fire. The strange surface of the wood, now devoid of bark, makes a beautiful pattern against the charcoal blackness.

hay storage

Hay is stored in this old structure. The large bales are wrapped in white plastic. This is a new method around here, and it always makes me smile to see them. They look like giant marshmallows.

They're our answer to Christo - a kind of modern art statement. They are very cool when arranged on an open field.

grain storage

This is a fairly small grain storage facility. I'm always interested in the shapes of the buildings and the other equipment. Fans run that control the humidity and moisture in the grain to prevent mold.

There are some really huge operations in the area, including Elburn Co-op. Grain storage requires a high level of safety measures and so do cheap servers, because there are great dangers involved. Grain dust is highly explosive, and a explosion is something to be avoided ad all costs. There was a big explosion in Kansas a few years back that resulted in a number of deaths.

illinois

"To this place, I owe everything." - Abraham Lincoln

Although Abraham Lincoln was not born in Illinois, he made this state his home, hence the phrase "Land of Lincoln". The above phrase was spoken in an address at the Great Western Depot in Springfield, Illinois, as Lincoln left to serve as President in Washington, D.C.

A truer phrase was never written. The older you get, the more you realize how much of your character has been forged by a place....a place you call home. I know people who have wandered the globe searching for "something more". Perhaps the answer for them is there is nothing more. Nothing more than the simplest lessons you learn at the simplest place - that place you call home.

Recently I met a woman who lives out on Sauber Road, which is very rural and mostly untraveled. When I mentioned that I'd been out there many times taking photographs she looked rather startled. "I've never thought of Sauber Road as a destination," she said.

Yes, Sauber Road is a destination, and we need to take the time to recognize and celebrate the places where we live.

My DNA memory is also imprinted with the moody swamps of the Florida panhandle, where my father was born and raised, and where we spent summers. It becames that exotic landscape which also shaped who I am today.

bank

This old building in Virgil has seen better days. Years ago it was converted to an apartment building. The sign says "Bank", but I've learned not to make assumptions based on an old sign.

A small section of stucco has peeled away at the base of the structure, hinting at an interesting hidden surface of brickwork underneath. I wonder if anyone has a photo of this building in it's heyday. It would be interested to see it's orginal facade.

glass

When I was growing up in the 1950's moms stayed at home, and dads went to work. It was the only possibility because no one had two cars. Never heard of anyone having two cars - many didn't even have one car. They took public transporation to work.

Milk was delivered fresh on our doorstep by a great guy in a sparkling white uniform with a snappy hat and a black bow tie. Bread was delivered too, because we only did grocery shopping on the weekends.

Milk is still delivered around here, in real glasses bottles, by Oberweis Dairy. These are not Oberweis dairy bottles, but Craftons, from a old time dairy in California. I was forced to reach into my archive of photos since I inadvertently erased todays shoot. That's OK, it allows me to bring you this image that invokes the past. Oberweis dairy hosted a gathering of Milk Delivery Truck Collectors. They gathered last summer on the stinking hottest day of the year. It was almost impossible to enjoy the beautiful restored vehicles.

Crafton was a family owned dairy in California. These are the original bottles and caps, although for display purposes filled with tiny white styrofoam beads.

I hope you're one of those that remembers milk in glass bottles. I just tastes different - - - believe me on this one!

peaceful

This rural roadway is spared from the construction pictured in yesterdays entry. This spot is about 12 miles away....but a million miles in terms of tranquility. The light of dusk turns the muddy water in the low spot in the farmers field into mercury. A single car travels the miles of roadway, all alone. It's quiet except for the shriek of an unseen predator and the barking of a dog in the distance.

After the sun goes down the sounds change. Late in the night the coyotes start their songs. Unlike New York City, the appearance of a coyote in this scene doesn't warrant helicopters, news conferences and terrorist teams on the hunt.

deconstructed

This is the scene just nine miles from here. The development in our area has been unbelievable and is teetering on the edge of going "super-nova".

Everything seems to be swept away to make way for the new. Barns, silos, outbuildings, older 1950's style commercial buildings, only slightly-aging gas stations, pretty wonderful local taverns that serves really great food (sorry you had to leave Vi), family owned grocery stores are forced to pick up and move, or are plowed under, all in the path of a leviathan plan for our area.

The disturbing thing is that the urban planners and developers behind this activity do not live in our communities. At least I don't think they do. Most people move here for a reason, and that reason is in danger of being erased, as if it never existed. It's a culture clash, and at times it just ain't pretty.

As development continues, everything must be deconstructed before it can be reconstructed. Here's what deconstruction looks like. Piles of rubble, men in hard hats, orange cones, flashing traffic horses, heavy equipment you never knew existed. Trucks....hauling out, hauling in.

twisted

I've lived long enough to see trees destroyed in any number of ways. I've seen them drowned out when sloughs flooded, I've seen them blown over, burnt up in lightning strikes, hit by trucks, ripped up by tornados, but this one is a new on me.

This tree seems to have been twisted till it cracked open and fell. I can't imagine that the interior was completely rotted, because it seemed green an healthy, fully filled out with needles.

The amazing thing is that it turned, twisted and fell away from the farmhouse.

leafless

We are leafless still. Any plant life that would have the audacity to show itself at this point would only be rewarded with the icy crystallization of its cell structure. Nothing is showing vitality.

But at least it was a sunny day. Clear and cold, with a little warmth towards midday, provided by the sun. The anticipation of spring becomes unbearable, just when you think there's a break, we're back in the deep freeze.

Some farmers have planted fields with early crops. It's wonderful to see again the deep furrows running to the horizon in perfect rows. Can spring be far behind? One can hope.

testament

All that's left of this farm are two silos, standing strong and straight like the tombstones at old Kings Cemetery. They are gigantic testaments to the fact that a living, working farm once stood on this spot. Everything else is gone except for a pitifully decaying farmhouse just to the north of this location.

The huge barn is gone, as is the windmill, pump house, corn cribs and chicken coop.

This image represents the importance of work done by Garfield Farm and Inn Museum, The Homeplace 1850 and others in the business of map making.

Map making, you ask? What does a historic presevation group have to do with map making? Their work is about creating maps - deep maps. I was first introduced to the phrase in William Least Heat-Moon's book, PrairyErth. It refers to mapping a physical place, not only in space but in time. Standing on a spot and building a deep image of how the space was used reaching back in time.

Garfield Farm and others make it easier to construct a deep map. Their work brings this imaginitive process to life. They've done all the research, allowing us to simply enjoy the time travel. Ancient history isn't so ancient, but authentically recreated in the here and now. Living history - history that lives.

home sweet home

This is a typical rural farmhouse. What makes it unusual is that interesting combination of standard windows and plastic that have been cobbled together to enclose the front porch.

Living out in the country helps you develop the habit of using what is at hand.

Use it up
Wear it out
Make it do
Do without.

Somehow this photo reminds me of the vulnerability of these homes, standing alone in the open as tornado season fast approaches.

you are invited

On April 9th, The Farmers Wife will be celebrating it's one-year anniversary.

It's hard to believe that the effort has continued this long. Winter presented great difficulties. Long stretches of greyness don't tend to stimulate the creative juices. And then, the hoarfrost arrives and the world becomes a magical fairyland...briefly, then back to greyness.

There are periods when everything seems to flow, and times when producing a photo is drudgery. Like keeping a Journal, the daily blog work its way into your routine. It requires discipline, especially those times when you feel no one is watching or reading. Others are featured in the New York Times or the Chicago Tribune, but you plod along, contented to be the little, unknown blog on the prairie.

But of course, a blurb in a major newspaper is not why you make the effort. You make the effort because you love the countryside, the fields and crumbling barns. And you want others to understand the beauty around you.

Recently I met a local woman who lives on Sauber Road. When I mentioned that I'd been there many times to take photographs, she said, "I never thought of Sauber Road as a destination!" Yes, it is. Any little corner of the world is a destination, if you take the time to stop, be still and look with different eyes.

I invite you all, loyal readers, lurkers, and those finding this site while Googling for "sows", to join in the celebration. If you've got a little time to spare, cruise through the archives and find a photo and text that would qualify as your favorite.

Send me an e-mail before April 5th and let me know what you've chosen with a few words telling me why. I'll share the results starting on April 9. In the subject line put the words "Farmers Wife Favorite", so that I don't delete the e-mail thinking it's someone trying to sell me Viagra.

I'd offer everyone a jar of Corn Cob Jelly as a thank you, but it seems the kids have eaten it all up.

wired

Triple meters tell me that three apartments occupy this old brick building. It stands at the crossroads in a small rural town. Once the first floor housed a dry goods store, or perhaps a hardware business....you know, the old type, where you could buy one screw or ten bolts. I love the sound as the ten penny nails were dumped into the hanging scale.

Now the place has been divided up into apartments. No cable service this far out so everyone is wired to a satellite. Notice the tiny air conditioner. Bet that thing gets a work out on a hot day.

archaic

The big box stores are about 20 miles from this spot. Small town America is home to what some would call archaic businesses - skills and tradesman that have gone by the wayside in large developed areas.

Yes, in small town America we still have TV and vacuum cleaner repair shops, people that shoe horses and blacksmiths. They've also added modern skills to their arsenal, such as welding. As you can see this business has been here for a very long time. Hopefully for many more years. This small town is home to the blacksmith and a country store.

waiting

This was taken along the same rail line as yesterdays photo, but further west. I read in the paper the other day that at least 120 trains pass along these tracks every day. I remember being shocked by the number. Sure, it always seems like we're sitting and waiting for a train to creep past, but 120?

This crossing is on Meredith Road near the huge grain co-op complex. There's nothing more beautiful than those huge metal dome gleaming in the sun. I call them "minarets on the prairie".

shadows

What's to do if you're stopped at a railroad crossing waiting for a slow moving freight to pass by? Why, roll the windows down and start taking photographs of course.

The ice crystal-laden branches on the other side of the road were beautiful, but required the full 10x zoom capabilities of the Fuji. Not a very successful attempt as at that range the camera cannot "grab" on the ice crystals to focus.

The open field of dark loamy topsoil is behind me and to the left, making for an impossible shot. I glance to the right and see some interesting shadows cast against the side of the barn. The cluster of buildings seems very interesting to me also.

The train passes, the guy in front of me looks quizically into the rear view mirror....What is the heck is she taking photos of? Shadows my man, shadows.

64 acres

64 acres for sale. Twelve inches of jet black topsoil. Includes a sagging farmhouse with broken windows, barns and outbuildings crumbling under the weight of their uselessness. What is it about the occupation of a building that keeps it vital. It doesn't seem to me that immense amounts of effort go into the maintenance of a building, but the lack of such creates such chaos.

Perhaps the breath and body warmth of animals and humans alike breathe life into the structures.....or is that just nonsense? I do know this much, without the constant touch of man they decay at an exponential rate. Soon a strong gust of wind will signal their end, loosening a single nail or board which serves as a lynchpin to the house of cards.

The oven in the farmhouse hasn't seen a warm meal in many years - now it's just a shelter for nests of mice. Is it a mistake to romanticize the life that was one lived here? I don't think so. It was a hard life, but one that agreed with those who chose to live their lives planting, harvesting, repairing machinery, feeding animals, cooking, cleaning, canning, hanging laundry on the lines. Clotheslines? They will be banned in the suburban community that will occupy this spot.

prairie burn

This starts the season for prairie burns, either purposeful or accidental. Controlled burns are set and the perimeters controlled by volunteers with brooms. This was probably a brush fire that caught the adjacent prairie land ablaze. There were no volunteers patrolling the edges. The fire department showed up to watch patiently, making sure the flames didn't spread to the nearby Mongerson Farm complex.

I've just finished reading the classic story of immigrants on the prairie, "Giants in the Earth" which left me with a healthy respect for the challenges facing those pioneers. I can only imagine the terror that struck their hearts as prairie fires raged out of control, speeding across the prairie faster than a man could run.

trio

A trio of small evergreen trees hold their own in the vastness of a newly created recreation area. Snow and fog combine to paint a neutral background for the little trees. Joggers are a month away, snowshoers and cross country skiers haven't yet discovered the spot. There's not a decent incline that would tempt a kid and a sled and no frozen ponds for skaters.

So, they stand alone for now.

fog

Clouds moved away in the middle of the night. The rising sun warmed the air which in turn clashed with the cold, new fallen snow, creating large pockets of fog. The distant hills were draped with the clouds of water droplets, a thin veil softening the features of the landscape.

Beauty belies the danger. Rural intersections are socked in. We all move tenuously, creeping our way along, struggling to identify any familiar landmarks.

march morning

This was the scene this morning. I've been remiss and haven't posted a "lonely tree" photo in awhile. Somehow I never tire of them. Call them what you will... trite, cliche', nevermind I find them lovely in their loneliness.

little big house on the prairie

Winter slams us again with its authority. We're under a winter storm advisory, and let me tell you that we don't even mention the word "snow" if we're talking under a foot. It's snowing heavily at the moment, creating near white-out conditions once again.

This photo is an exercise in demonstrating scale as it applies to the open spaces around here. The little big house on the prairie pictured here is at my estimation, about 15,000 sq. ft. That's the size of a large small town library, if we had a small town library, which we do not. Nor a post office or a fire house.

This mansion sits alone in the middle of several hundred acres, but don't fear, other homes are in the planning process.

It does look quite small in the context of Mother Natures firmament, doesn't it?

coal train

The coal train again..... just because. I'm fascinated with the strong shapes, dark colors, shadows, disappearing lines of perspective... strong graphics.

A bituminous post card if you will.

hiking

I never tire of watching the coal trains travel back and forth, many times during the day, heading east loaded with coal and later heading west empty. Railroad cars loaded with the blackest coal, stretching as far as the eye can see.

There are many strange things I come upon in my photographic quest, including chairs perfectly lined up in front of a rusting hulk of metal. When I stopped on top of the Harley Road bridge to capture yet another shot of the coal train there was a figure in the distance, someone walking their dog maybe. As the figure got closer the realization came to me that this was a man and a very young child. This is miles from anything that could be considered a town. There is a pod of half million dollar home nearby and farmhouses spotting the landscape at distances, but the fact remains that it's a very long walk from any of those locations and it's extremely cold here today.

It seemed more than odd to me that anyone would choose to stroll along rural railroad tracks for enjoyment. As they approached voices lifted up from the scene below, they were singing songs. Perhaps it was the lighthearted song that kept me from grabbing my cellphone and dialing 9-1-1 just to report this strange scene. I'm still not quite comfortable with my decision.

dream time

This is the dream time, the awkward space between winters icy grip and summers warm promise. Everything stands in suspended animation, not quite here nor there.

The hoards of energetic kids playing hockey on the open expanses of ice are gone. Gone too are the ice fisherman, sitting on buckets in poses of zen-like patience, waiting for the slightest nibble. The picnic tables stand empty, months away from groaning under baskets of fried chicken and potato salad.

The small boats wait....suspended, everything suspended, waiting to be set in motion.