THANSGIVING 11-21-07

Hi!

 

It seems appropriate that this email will fall on Thanksgiving week. About a month ago I went to Northern California to shoot the last dairy farm for Horizon Organic Dairy calendar. For those of you who have been here for the last year, you’ve seen a lot of cows and some of the most genuine people that I’ve had the pleasure to meet. I am thankful for the gracious way they each opened their lives to me.

When I left Larkspur, about 10 miles North of the Golden Gate Bridge, fog filled every valley for the fist hundred miles. I love it when the sun looks more like the moon and each picture looks like it’s shot in black and white.

By the time I reached the farm I was about 50 miles from the Oregon border and the sun looked like itself again. It was about noon. Shane and Kristina, the owners of the dairy, had just returned from running a marathon through The Avenue of the Giants, a redwood forest about 40 miles from the farm. That, in itself, made them unique for what you might think of dairy farmers. Another thing that set them apart was that neither of them had been raised on a dairy farm. This was a lifestyle they purposely chose for themselves and for their children.

 I had about an hour before the family was ready for pictures. They recommended that I check out the owls in the barn. I found the owls resting just where Kristina told me they would be. The barn was illuminated only from the light glowing through the wooden slats of the back wall. It reminded me of a giant stained glass window in some European Cathedral. It was perfectly quiet. As I meditated on the sacredness of the space a miracle happened. One of the barn owls spread it’s 3 1/2 foot wingspan and flew from one end of huge barn to the other. It was perfectly quiet. It was beyond the experience of my senses to see without an accompanying sound.  

 

This is, of course, where I began to take the family pictures. We included Kristina’s parents who also give a hand on the farm. 

 

Next, as is always the case on a farm, it was time for chores. I was very impressed with how Shane and Kristina raised their children. Four (and a half) year old Kyler and two year old Sienna had complete run of the farm. Doing chores wasn’t a chore. It was just a way of life. It was something that empowered them with a sense belonging and self worth.  

They enjoyed showing me how they helped feed the calves as much as showing me how big a splash they could make by walking through a mud puddle.

Kristina was kind enough to fix me a sandwich so I could have something to eat while I shot sunset. I was up and at the farm in time for the first milking before dawn.

 As the sun rose I headed out to the pastures for pictures. I can’t put my finger on it, but everything seemed to have an order, a harmony.

Perhaps it was because I have been out standing in a field at dawn with a herd of cows so many times this year or it was just my feeling of gratitude, but everywhere I looked there was a picture.

At every turn there was a shot and a perspective that I had never seen before.

Later that morning we did more family pictures. At the end of their farm road is one of the giant oversized painted artworks of farmers that dot the California countryside. I couldn’t pass up using it as one of the backgrounds for photos. I gave Shane and Kyler two hats that I had been given by Horizon. I loved the way Kyler filled the hat and the way he looked up to his father. After thanking them all for sharing their lives with me I drove off feeling thankful for this year long project and for the opportunity it gave me to meet such remarkable individuals.

On the way home I drove through The Avenue of the Giants redwood forest. It’s always a trick to actually portray the scale of these 300 foot tall trees. The fallen tree on the right only shows half of it’s length. It had fallen over another downed tree which suspended the 150 foot length that is visible in the picture. I could easily walk under the this fallen log without having to lean over.

 

Besides the majesty of the trees there is also the magic of the forest itself. That magic is sometimes seen in the simplest spot of light.

Thank you for being with me for this most wonderful year. Writing these messages have shown me a great deal about how I take pictures and have made me a better photographer. And, more importantly, they have told me about why I take pictures and have made me a better human being. I’m not sure when I’ll be sending the next installment. If it’s not until next year let me wish you a Happy Thanksgiving and as my friend Cha Cha says, “Have a Merry Now and a Happy Forever!” If you want to be removed just send a reply with “No Thanks” in the subject line. If you received this from a friend and want to be added to the list send me an email. I will be delighted to include you.  jd@jerrydownsphoto.com.

Thank You!

Love, Jerry

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/

“We are not human beings having a spiritual experience.
We are spiritual beings having a human experience.”
-Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)

FAMILY FARM 06-21-07

TRIP-5 ENTRIES   3 OF 5 

Hi!

Joe and I arrived at Sun-Ton Farms in Chehalis,Washington before dawn. Joe took a picture of the cows in the disappearing fog. Then we took a quick look at the farm and the location of the cows and determined the direction we would take to take pictures at sunrise.

Joe headed down to the far end of the pasture to get the morning light on the front and faces of the cows. I stayed behind and shot into the sunrise to get the glowing rim light. The previous night three calves had been born.

I loved the innocence of this creature’s fist day on the planet. I also appreciated the trust that the mother cow showed me.

It’s great going on a shoot with Joe. Partly because we get a new read on how we ourselves work. Here’s Joe working to get a new perspective. Sunny and Tony (Sun-Ton Farm) are very dynamic and interesting characters. Taking this different kind of portrait suited their playful selves.

Their son, Lonny, also runs the farm. While Joe took the father-sun portrait on the left I was shooting the same gesture on the right. They commented that they

heard the click of both shutters go off at the same time.

One of the greatest pleasures of being a photographer is spending one on one time with such interesting people. Joe took off with Tony to record the next hour of his life and to share tales of growing up in the country. Joe was raised on a remote ranch in South Dakota. As Tony began to rake the new mowed hay for bailing I’m sure Joe told him about getting a penny a piece to stack bails as a kid. And I was absolutely sure that he shared the technique of lifting the bail with a hook from the far end first and then listening to see if there was a rattlesnake under the bail before proceeding. No rattlers here, but you still had to watch where you were stepping.

I walked the fields with Lonny who shared his experience of being raised on these same fields and how much raising his own family here meant to him. I was raised in the country also, but we had no crops or animals except for the 11 kids. We were free, as my father said, “to raise hell and not worry about the neighbors.” While walking through the tall grass of the pasture we were surprised by one of the new born calves. It reminded me of coming upon a deer fawn in the wild. I enjoyed this initial introduction. They were truly bonding, sharing their connection and recognizing how they depend on one another. Next I got time to spend time with Sunny. The clear matriarch of the clan, this dear woman is full of light and spark. She definitely has the right name.I walked the fields with Lonny who shared his experience of being raised on these same fields and how much raising his own family here meant to him. I was raised in the country also, but we had no crops or animals except for the 11 kids. We were free, as my father said, “to raise hell and not worry about the neighbors.” While walking through the tall grass of the pasture we were surprised by one of the new born calves. It reminded me of coming upon a deer fawn in the wild. I enjoyed this initial introduction. They were truly bonding, sharing their connection and recognizing how they depend on one another. Next I got time to spend time with Sunny. The clear matriarch of the clan, this dear woman is full of light and spark. She definitely has the right name.

Joe shot this series of Lonny’s son Zach. It reminded us both of running through the alfalfa fields as kids.

Soon the whole family arrived. Michelle, Lonny’s wife, and Sunny helped Cassy Jo with her boots as Lonny broke for a cup of coffee between chores. Zach played with Joey and his recent birthday present, a toy John Deer Tractor that was, “just like daddy’s.” After playing with the kids it was clear what Lonny meant when he talked about farm and family.

While we were setting up for the family portrait another member of the farm asked to have it’s picture taken. Seeing the peacock unfurled in front of the white barn was the first time I had ever noticed the purpose of the arrow shaped feathers at the furthest reach of the fan. The arrows, the size, the colors and the eyes have it as far as a design that says, “Look at me.”

The huge walnut tree at the main farmhouse has special meaning for the whole family. Tony said that if the house burned down it would hurt, “but if anything happed to that tree it would break my heart.” It was the perfect place for family portraits.

We took a number of shots and as it was breaking up Tony put Cassy Jo on the bull and suddenly it all came together for a more fun and intimate picture.

When we got all through Sunny asked where we were off to next. Joe said, “This is the last farm, so we’re going East for a while and might end up in Yellowstone before we head home.” Lonny asked how far were we trying to get before we spend the night. I answered, “We don’t know. We’ll just go from picture to picture and see where we end up.” Lonny paused for a minute and said, “You’re just going off with no real destination. Going where ever the road takes you.” He pause for another minute and said, “You’re like..like free.” It’s great meeting new people. They help you see yourself in a new way. A way, that without them, would have remained invisible. After Lonny’s comment I added, “Yeah, we’re just like you guys. We get up before dawn and work until the sun goes down.” Then everyone began to share some of the most beautiful places that made an impression on them in their own travels. These beautiful people certainly made an impression on us.

~

Thanks for joining us on our journey. I look forward to showing you what lay ahead on the open road. If you ever have a comment about these photo essays please drop me a line. If you have a picture you’d like to share, please send it along. I love hearing from you and seeing how other people picture the world. Of course, for any reason, if you want to be removed from my mailings just send a reply with “No Thanks” in the subject line. If you are one of those who received this from a friend and want to be added to the list send me an email. I will be delighted to include you. jd@jerrydownsphoto.com

I’ll be back!

Love, Jerry

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/

Joe’s website:

http://www.joeburull.com/

HAPPY 06-17-07

 TRIP-5 ENTRIES   2 OF 5

Hi!

Joe and I were at the Staehely Valley View farm in Oregon City, Oregon just before dawn. We made a few quick introductions at the farmhouse and then excused ourselves because we had to get to work. We played with the golden light from one end to the other.

Here are the cream of the shots that I got as I laid in the grass (in the opening picture). As you can see, my subjects were udderly impressed with my technique and professionalism. I could tell that they were very moooved. You can always tell if farmers love their animals by seeing how comfortable they are around humans. These curious cows were clearly cared for.

fter milking the morning light for all it was worth we just wondered the property looking for potential locations and stopping when we found a shot. I played in the sprinkler until it was time for chores.

The farm is run by Paul and Diane Staehely and their partner Debbie Timm and her daughter Barb. The calves get fed first. The youngest ones from a bottle and the older ones from buckets. They obliged me by letting me pick from the a half dozen different colored buckets for the shots. All these women had real class and a playful style.

Next it was time to get the cows from the far pasture down to the milking barn. For the short cattle drive they used a motor bike and an atv. The machines didn’t at all startle the cows. They were all familiar with each other and what was going on…..just as it has gone on, three times a day, every day, their whole lives.

The sensibilities used to shoot art pictures on the road are the same ones used to shoot jobs. Each serves the other to make me a better photographer. For the picture on the left, I flash filled the cat. For the one on the right I exposed for the outside scene and waited until the shape of the silhouette read “cat” and then I pushed the button. Neither one of these images were what the scene looked like to the eye. They are both versions that played with the limitations of how the camera sees. Now that I think about it, no two one of our eyes would see the scene the same way either.

I had seen the open window of the door to the milking barn earlier in the day. I was looking for places to shoot a portrait in the shade where the people wouldn’t have to squint in the bright sun. Later I got Paul and Diane to be their bright eyed selves. They suggested a location down the road in front of the original family barn built generations ago. You can tell how people love each other by how comfortable they are with one another. When Joe shot the portrait on the right I knew I could direct Diane to lay her head on Paul.

Ok, back to chores. Paul took us to where he was bailing hay. I loved it when he described what the scene looked like before the tree fell down in a storm. “The tree was huge.There was a great long branch that hung out and framed Mt. Hood perfectly. When we were kids we called it the ‘Hangman’s Tree’.” I watched him in the tractor moving slowly across the flats and up and down the hills, covering every inch, gathering each blade of grass. Grass that would later be used to feed the cows who would use it to make the milk that he would sell so he could continue to have this intimate relationship with his land and family.

I wanted to get a picture of Debbie and Barb. They are both very alive and animated individuals. It was a pleasure to be in their presence. They wanted to be with their favorite cow. It was great to see how comfortable they were with one other.

Now it was time for the group picture. It’s always a group effort, a co-creation. Diane let us know how important the tractor was to Paul’s father. Paul backed it into place. Debbie and Barb chose the cow that would be most comfortable in a halter. Everyone gathered: Paul’s parents, their son (in overalls) and his wife, their daughter (in orange) and her fiancé. Perhaps it was because I was born the fifth of eleven children that, in these situations, it usually falls to me to arrange the people, get them all and the cow pointed at the camera so I can turn it over to Joe to take the shot. After we took all the pictures we needed, Joe and I stepped into the shot to get our own memento of this wonderful group of people who made us feel like family.

Diane also let us know about Paul’s Barracuda that he had in High School. It was reconditioned and in cherry condition. We couldn’t pass up this opportunity to add a few pictures to the family album.

After we shared a sandwich with Paul, his parents and Diane we said our thanks and headed down the road to be in Washington for the next shoot at dawn the next day. As we drove along we talked about how great all the different individuals were and how the “job” part of it went. Joe started to laugh and then said, “I loved your final command when we did the family shot. None of that prep we used to do……’Now look straight into the camera. What your thinking shows up on your face. So, picture yourself in a wonderful place and smile, blah,blah,blah.’ You got everybody lined up and then just shouted, ‘Ok, you’re ready. Now, Be Happy!’ It was funny. They all were. I just had to push the button.” Sometimes that all it takes.

Thanks for sharing this great day down on the farm. If you ever have a comment about these photo essays please drop me a line. If you have a picture you’d like to share, please send it along. I love hearing from you and seeing how other people picture the world. Of course, for any reason, if you want to be removed from my mailings just send a reply with “No Thanks” in the subject line. If you are one of those who received this from a friend and want to be added to the list send me an email. I will be delighted to include you. jd@jerrydownsphoto.com

Be Happy!

Jerry

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/

Joe’s website:

http://www.joeburull.com/

LIVING 02-20-07

Hi!

 

 Last weekend I was in upstate New York State and Vermont taking winter pictures for a calendar for Horizon Organic Dairy. I flew into Rochester by way of Chicago. I, of course, requested a window seat. Rising out of O’Hare the rail yard reminded me of chips on a mother board. As night fell on mid-America I could see small farming communities illuminate the clouds. 

 

It was below zero as I drove the forty miles to Pavilion and the home of Cottonwood Farms.

 

In between the usual farm chores, fixing the frozen water pump and a few trips to town for parts, Paul Tillotson and his son, Jason, let me tag along and stop them every once in a while for a formal portrait.

 

 

I admired their hard work and appreciated their attitude and good humor. In the past few years their barn had been hit by a tornado and, also, collapsed under 10 feet of snow. As Paul said, “What are you going to do? You better learn to laugh at it or it will just rip you up.” We all had a good laugh when I misjudged the depth of the snow and had to get the tractor to pull my rental car out of the ditch. “Don’t worry about it.” He said, “We’ve all done it.”  

 

I also had the chance to spend some time with the animals.

After school, Jason’s wife, their children, joined Paul and his wife Dana and another grandson in the barn for pictures. The calf in the picture on the right was born the day before. The light in the picture is a heat lamp to help keep it warm. It certainly helped make for a warm family portrait. 

After saying my many thanks, goodbyes and refusing gracious offers to say for dinner, I headed out to get a start on my 350 mile drive to Vermont. By 11:00 at night, I made it to a Super 8 about 150 miles from The Milky Way Organic Dairy and the home of Bob, Mary and Rob Clark.

As I came to the last turn on my two page directions from Google Maps I was greeted by the very red barn and white colonial house that I had imagined when Mary described it to me over the phone. We had been talking on and off for weeks waiting for snow. We had snow and a forecast for more and a balmy high in the teens. The whole scene looked like a Currier and Ives print.

 

It was clear from the very beginning what a special relationship they had with the land and the animals.

The Clarks also had a newborn calf…actually it was three newborns. It was too cold (It had been -24 degrees the week before.) to leave them in the barn, so Bob, Mary and Rob used one of the spare rooms in the house for a nursery. They gave new meaning to the term “small family farm.”

From my fist conversations with Mary, both she and Bob made it clear that this was Rob’s farm. Bob had run it as a conventional dairy farm until ten years ago, when the price of milk made him change directions. Rob graduated from high school a year ago and decided that the life a dairy farmer would be his chosen vocation. The economics of going organic helped make the decision possible.

Mary and Bob shared their help and experience and agreed to be behind him each step of the way.

During the summer Mary leads an organic education center complete with a petting area and hands-on milking demonstration. Out in the barn yard we had a discussion about how the importance of getting people to have an idea of where their food comes from. It was clear they all enjoyed this part of the farm experience. They smiled when they recalled a woman from New Jersey who showed up in high heeled sandals and white shorts. “She, like so many others, had no idea what a farm was like.” Then they added, “But, you know what? She was game right from the start. A cow plopped right next to her and she just laughed. And when she milked the cow, you should have seen the look on her face. It was like some kind of magic.” I completely agreed.

The weather changed throughout the day from spots of sun to heavy snow blowing sideways. All the while work continued.

I knew that their work day began at four in the morning. The milk truck, due to the weather, didn’t show up until seven at night. It had been a long day, but the time passes well when you love what you do for a living.

As I got ready to leave I thanked Mary for her open invitation to return and stay with them anytime now that they knew I was “ok.” I thanked them for making me feel like part of the family and headed to Rutland where I counted on my usual magic for finding a place to stay. When I got to town there was no room at the Holiday Inn and word from the desk that all the other hotels were full as well as those in the next two towns, East and West, down the highway. I had no reservations about heading South to the next town 20 miles away on the map. I only made it about half way when I saw the lights on in an old two story farm house with a sign that read “Welcome Travelers.” The owners, Rita and Malcom, the bed, the breakfast, The White Rocks Inn in Wallingsford, Vermont were purely magical.

As I flew from Rutlant to Boston and non-stop to San Francisco I saw thousands of farms and farm houses each with their own story and contribution to how we all eat. On our final approach I was delighted to see the now greening fields in California.

I leave you with my great appreciation for farmers and an udderly ridiculous picture of “Sunshine” a very affectionate and nosey cow out there in the Milky Way.

Enjoy Your Living.

Jerry

  

As always, thanks for joining me on the journey, for all the great feedback and kind replies and paying me the great compliment of forwarding these tales out into the world. If, for any reason, you want to be removed from my mailings just send a reply with “No Thanks” in the subject line. If you are one of those who received this from a friend and want to be added to the list send me an email. I will be delighted to include you.

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
jd@jerrydownsphoto.com
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/