Expecting Spring. February 26, 2012
Posted by littlebangtheory in Love and Death, Politics and Society.Tags: climate change, Connecticut River, fields, Mount Hitchcock, Northampton
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The fields outlying Northampton ought to be deep in snow this time of year, anticipating the annual floods which accompany the Spring thaw.
But they’re not. They’re silt-laden from the waters of Irene, cracked and dried in the subsequent sun, and anticipating nothing beyond longer days and warmer temperatures:
The Holyoke Range recedes into the east, with Mount Hitchcock appearing as the high point, though it’s not quite that.
With nothing to melt in these parts and scant snow cover up north, I’m not anticipating much of a Spring Surge on the Connecticut river, the once-proud benefactor of the fertile farmlands of its namesake valley.
Again, I wonder what this is all coming to. Change happens whether we participate in it or not – I’m not lamenting the change, but rather wondering if we’re causing it to happen faster than the rest of Nature can adapt.
This is a bit more of Elliot’s handiwork, though the foreground fodder was barely worth noticing.
An Inexpensive Date! March 21, 2010
Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature, Love and Death.Tags: a lucky guy, bones, farms, fields, found object art, steers, Susan
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On Friday it was $2 apiece to get into the bulb show, and Susan was in heaven.
On Saturday it was a walk up a dirt road and through unsigned pastures and farm lots, which undercut Friday’s extravagance by, um, $2 apiece, and Susan was again ecstatic.
I am such a lucky guy!
Behind an old metal-roofed barn we found an extremely roughly hewn three inch “washer,” torch-cut from plate steel, and an old rusted cotter pin, both of which will likely find their way into Susan’s collages of Found Object Art. Then, rounding a corner, we came face to face with The Locals, who seemed baffled by our presence, giving us the “Whatchoo Lookin’ At” eye:
We were, in fact, looking at an old International Harvester farm truck, dazed by a konk on the noggin from a falling tree but, judging by her tires, far from dead:
I thought the black and white rendition afforded the old gal the dignity she deserved.
Susan, bless her impish heart, seemed to think this was great fun!
Farther up in the pastures, while enjoying a spectacular view, she found a large bone. It was a sun-bleached bovine scapula, a gift which had her all but dancing in the fields.
Did I mention that I’m a lucky guy?
🙂
Views. December 12, 2008
Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature.Tags: barns, fields, orchards, scenic
6 comments
There’s only so much one can juice out of a freezing rain.
But as an aspiring photographer, I squeeze like a MoFo, and out come the images.
A high field, ensconced in ice:
An apple farm, resting up for the work to come:
A dairy farm, hunkered down for the turbulent evening:
An unoccupied hillside pasture:
‘Cause all the smart sheep and cattle are in the damned barn!
Sentinals December 30, 2007
Posted by littlebangtheory in poetry.Tags: fields, hunters, The Inevitable
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Here we stand,
Days,
Nights,
Years,
Watching the corn grow,
Watching the grass grow,
Watching the Hunters curse
As flocks of birds rise, circle,
And disappear over the horizon,
Always in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
Is this why we wait?
Is this what we stand for?
Tell me there is more.
Tell me there is a reason
Why we stand here,
Other than to bear witness
To the inevitable.
Images From MY Day December 22, 2007
Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature.Tags: barn, fences, fields, snow
2 comments
It has been a typical gray New England December day, but with a bit more snow than we’ve been having the last few years. The cattle are mostly gathered in barnyards, and the downed fences no longer seem to matter.
Their winter homes must seem to them like castles on the moors of our silent farm-scapes.
A glint of sunlight at twilight reminds us that the Gray Days are numbered, finite, necessary for the rejuvenation of our lives.
Namaste.
Little Bang Theory 