Images of New England
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Earl’s family first settled this place in 1868, making him the fifth generation to work the land. The oxen are Red and Rock; Red (horns up) is a milking Devon, and Rock (horns out straight) is a beef Devon. They’re both about 7 years old, and just coming into their prime.
This stop at the watering hole is the prelude to their work day, which might encompass some six hours of logging, the oxen mostly on standby.
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These alpacas lived up the road from us for awhile, and it always a pleasure to drive by, and see what they were up to.
“Shearing Day” is a springtime ritual for sheep, llamas, and alpacas throughout the land; a time when thick protective winter coats are removed – for their health and our commerce.
These gentle and exotic creatures seemed to tolerate the process quite well, thanks in no small part part to the incredibly talented shearers on site that day. A significant part of their job seemed to be keeping the stress level on the animals to a minimum – stylin’ all the while.
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Night falls quickly in mid autumn here; the extended twilight – so sublime just three months ago – barely remembered.
Now, there’s a chill in the air before the sun even sets, and we readily head indoors – to light and warmth – ceding the dark to what roams the nighttime vastness of northern New England.
But oh our wild hearts! And so we are bound, to pause at the door, and reach back to the landscape, for all those things a hearth and home simply cannot contain.
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Taken outside the self-service farm stand at the Chandler Pond Farm. Reflecting our better natures, the money box was not locked. A big thank you to the farm folks there, not only for the beautiful pumpkins (I bought the next to largest size for $6.00), but also for your faith and trust in our better selves.
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Glenn Merrill, a pleasant young guy doing the mowing here, finally stopped near me, popped open the cabin door, and said “You must really like tractors!”
At that point, he had been around the field five times or so since I arrived and started photographing.
“Well it’s more the first haying of the season..”
The unofficial start of Summer.
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