I am stopping in to share a few photos but will be short on words today.
I have recently taken a deep exploration into black and white photography (this recent exploration can be viewed on my Instagram feed @woolstoneprairie ). With photography becoming a stronger presence in my life I’ve been sorting through what it means to Be a photographer, and beyond taking nice photos what might my type of photography look like?
I am not sure I have solid answers but I recognize I have long been a fan of soft color rather than brilliant, and of photos that convey mood. When I tried some black and whites I discovered the subjects in my back forty, the subjects I happen to like to photograph, are well suited for it. I also discovered that I really like what I see when the color is absent – in some way the mood begins to show itself.
As a result of trying some black and white photography I am seeing my subjects anew and after this many years of living this land and livestock life that’s not a bad thing at all.
I marvel about being at this juncture of living on a large parcel of prairie land, being shepherdess to a flock of sheep; navigating alongside a mid sized pack of guardian dogs, with kelpie dogs as my sidekicks. I marvel at being a rarity by virtue of the fact that so few people experience such a life today when at one time so many people lived it.
There is a crazy amount of work to this life but it has an undercurrent of natural simplicity that is hard to match. At it’s core it is a simple lifestyle – the gift of grass based, natural agriculture.
Writing (and photographing) about it is an added bonus however, truth be told, I often forget this or down play it which is why this blog experienced a long lull recently as did the newsletter I used to write.
But the last several months have been littered with reminders about the value of offering what it is we feel we have to offer. Society is in a much different state today and it seems more necessary that we make connections through whatever interests people find to connect over. And hence, last month I did a thing that I really want to catch you up on.
I restarted the Crooked Fences newsletter.
The newsletter is an addition to this blog. When you subscribe you receive the newsletter in your inbox. Each issue contains an essay of musing and photogrpahs and at this point is scheduled for six issues per year. One thing I can promise you about it is that the writing will be honest, and the photographs will be worth your while.
My incentive for restarting the newsletter is similar to my incentive for trying again with this blog. My desire to be a voice for the prairie, for land, has deepened. Mother Nature has shone a great light upon the importance of living a life that is also profitable to the soul. And to do so we cannot go without healthy natural places and spending time in them. It is incumbent upon farmers and ranchers to be careful with Mother Nature and to respect her rather than just reaping the benefits that suit the ever moving bottom line. It is time to investigate and celebrate those internal nudges that have no way to be planned out by pencil and paper and include them in our decision making. Because both the nature out-there and the nature within-here need to become our first consideration rather than our afterthought.
An injured guardian dog is an obvious sign of overnight trouble but other signs that trouble is afoot are more subtle. In this case the ewes are bedded down tight to one another when warm weather would make it less than desirable to do so. They are also bedded down in an unusual location at the top of our yard. The ewes would not have chosen this spot on their own.
Three guardian dogs are further afield. There are two other dogs right in the midst of the flock, and this girl resting just on the fringe, weary and worn.
One of the two dogs in the midst of the flock was Oakley, our sleepy senior. It seems he is well aware of his increased fragility and knows where he is most useful. In his youth he would always be further afield from the flock but these days his role has shifted to being with the ewes. Moving when the flock moves, resting soundly when they rest. His actions are all vocal now, he’s no longer involved in physical confrontations or doing hard running. These days he spends as much or more time asleep than awake. His awareness of his abilities is likely what kept him out of the scree of trouble. His retirement is very near.
These dogs live a rich, purposeful life, fulfilling the role they are bred for – a life I set up for them by virtue of keeping a flock of sheep. I comprehend that injury is a risk and a hardship on the flip side of that purposeful life but a sense of responsibility and guilt for the hardship the dogs encounter always creeps in.
Confrontations are also a stark reminder that, despite what we wish, there is no control over what takes place in mother natures domain which is precisely where these dogs live and work.
