Different as Night and Night

I had a rough night a while back, losing a load of building supplies along the way home three times before I could get it all delivered safely. On my last reloading stop I rested a bit after lifting really heavy materials back into the truck...looked up and saw the trees and the sky.

Wow. Click.

Having been so long a city mouse, now that I've become the country cousin, at times it's really apparent what exactly has changed. Life is quieter, food is home-grown, I see the kids more, and all that I've written about before.

What's not so clear so often is how this all changes my pictures. Though I'm aware that there is more rural character to the people here, people are still people. Faces are faces.

Then I got into my Lightroom image library and typed in the word "night" and found such a contrast starkly laid before me.

Night photography is a lot of fun. It's got an easy drama to it, and so becomes a first step of love for photography for many young people. That was as true for me as for anybody.

I am still a night owl and love navigating by moonlight. I guess I always will.

Harvest Volunteer

Today our little Calaveras Farm leaped a new hurdle, as we began harvesting our own oats.

No we don't like hot cereal that much, but we're rather hoping the cows will like our oats. A few pounds of seeds planted and tended a bit for a few months and we've now got about a ten-fold increase. Nature is generous.

Of course we've got to do our part, so I volunteered to help harvest. This is a small field, we're a small family, so we did it as it's been done for thousands of years...by hand.

I got out my nice broad-brimmed straw hat, some boots to protect against snakes, and started grabbing up fists full of oats. It was fun. Poking along and talking to Robin as we gathered the grain was the kind of gentle pastoral scene that I'd always hoped for when we first started talking about this place and what we had in mind.

Throughout the field of oats, we kept finding a different grain that seems to have snuck in with the oats. It is beautiful, it's probably good food, but it is out of place.

And then I thought about myself in the field...in my nice hat, not really knowing what I'm doing there, but happy to be there. So I feel a bit of kinship with the odd grain.

So I gathered up some of this grain volunteer for this harvest volunteer, and added it to what has become my farm hat. I'm still a bit out of place, but I fit in more and more all the time, and at least my hat is more beautiful every day.