Out Toward the Pastures, Woods, and Fields
Growing up in rural New Hampshire, farms were something that I interacted with. Not something that I merely got a product from or drove past, but spaces which I lived among and walked through. I wanted to use this project as an opportunity to communicate some of what I’ve learned, and am learning, farmers to be– the intricacies of their lives, their unique hardships, and the deep caring that they so often possess. The medium wasn’t specific, digital photography was selected for flexibility. The project is ongoing, most likely leading to a book in the coming years.
At 77, Ray still stands at the farmers market. He keeps a simple, unassuming booth: a 1950s Chevrolet pickup, an active beehive encased in plexiglass, and in front of it all is Ray himself. A man who looks like he’s been doing the same thing for 30 years, but is still just as eager. When we talked about it later, Ray told me “those other guys, they’ll sit. Not me.” Standing indicates his availability, and in that he finds his use. Sitting doesn’t appeal to him, neither does retiring. In fact, he actively avoids both. “When you retire, that’s it, you’re done... nobody needs you anymore.”
To stay organized, Bennett makes must do, should do, and could do lists. Right now, moving the cows is a must do, otherwise they’ll cause damage to the land. Finding his dog Rudy is a should do-- he ran off again, probably after a scent or maybe to a neighbor’s house. Bennett isn’t too worried.
After spending a couple minutes teaching me about the importance of various soil microbes, Phil realizes that he’s fallen behind on planting. Within the next week, he and Nan will bury over 10,000 cloves of garlic. In the end, most of what they have will be planted, but they try to pick out the smallest and most irregular pieces.“We like to do the sorting on those nice rainy days,” Nan says with a smile. She’s talking to me, but her eyes stay focused on Phil, who is now methodically pushing cloves into the soil. 40 years ago, when they first moved to New York together, they would spend their rainy afternoons inside with one another. It’s nice to give those times a purpose.
