The dinosaur farm

It's been frigid cold here in NW PA, much like the rest of the United States this week.  This leaves ample time to be inside and work on creative passions--like blogging--but it is not the best motivator for taking photos.  At least not for me!  I like to feel the button on the camera when I push it.

Nonetheless, the best medicine for cold weather in January is movement--up and out of my seat, bundled up, and to my vehicle.  A Canon in one hand, some coffee for added warmth in the other. 

One of the things I find myself photographing over and over is barns.  This particular barn is just a few miles down the road.  I've photographed it in just about every season and soon, I fear, its owners (who still live in the adjacent house) will surely have me arrested for stalking.

The other side of the barn is completely fallen in.  But this must have once been a beautiful farm, I'm sure.  It's now living its final years as a would-be ghost of its own past.  A reminder, perhaps, of why the small farm today is so important to regenerate.  We've become a nation of convenience, driving one of our country's mainstays into extinction.  The local farmer is a dinosaur on his own acreage.

Counting sheep

I have another blog I've been working at for several months, a photoblog of landscapes and things which catch my eye.  I found myself drifting a bit--really enjoying the writing as well as the photography.  Still, I seem to be floundering.  What do I want to write about?  What photos continue to capture my eye?

It's funny.  Time and time again, I find myself photographing barns.  Reading about farms.  Finally, living on a few small acres we can call our own and, perhaps, raise...something!  This is our second year in our home.  We have a large barn, a small barn, and quite a bit of lovely space to garden.  This past year, we planted a small grove of apple dwarfs, as well as tending to a garden that didn't fare too well (a lesson to be chalked up to what can and cannot be planted near black walnut trees, which exude a chemical preventing other nearby plants from drawing up water).

For the upcoming year, we've prepared additonal beds of garden space and are preparing strawberry, raspberry, and blueberry patches.  I'm planning on quite a few additional apples, as well as at least two hives of bees.

Still, I yearn for one thing--some sheep.  Alas, two acres really won't support even a small flock of sheep.  So I dream.  And I consider.  And I keep my eyes open for a neighbor who might want to sell a few acres.

I hope, in this blog, I will be able to take you through the seasons of our gardening, bee farming adventures, as well as come with me as I learn to be just a bit more self-sufficient.  Canning has never been my forte--but I hope to change this next fall.

And I won't give up on counting sheep in my dreams.