sundowne farm

it's a surprisingly small house on a large piece of land with a sheep named lady lenore. i had come to sundowne farm to photograph it for two reasons: the first, the more boring, was to photograph the place for my friend, david, the realtor selling the place. the second, was to photograph the place so the children who had to sell the place could remember where'd they grown up. the elderly gentlemen who'd lived here most of his adult life had died recently.

as i wandered the home and the surrounding property, i thought about the man who'd lived here. i saw his marriage certificate, i saw a picture of his marine corps unit from the second world war. i turned the pages of his bible, read his words of his faith ". . .it seems to me that if we're meant to go on living somewhere else, we ought to learn how to do it the best way here. . .". as i walked along his kitchen, i could see the patterns of his daily rituals, the place where his coffee was made, first thing in the morning, where the cup was washed and dried and put back in the same place. every morning. in my mind's eye, i could see him and i couldn't help but admire his world. it made me think of the small things i do everyday, the things that matter because i do them. and when i go, who will do them? will anyone notice that they no longer are being done?

out back, we went to make friends with lady lenore. really, she just eyed us with great trepidation, especially when seth started shrieking and waving his "sword" at her. as i thought of the small house's recent history, my heart broke for that ugly old sheep, whose bleating was sudden and loud. i think the only person in the world who'd found her beautiful was the same old man who'd made his coffee every morning in the kitchen with tile dating back to the early seventies. without him, i wonder if she felt lost.

the bell from the elementary school. apparently, the owner of sundowne farm worked for the school district for a long time. being one of the original residents of the valley, i imagine this bell meant a lot to him.

pictures from mammoth mountain, when it was only just a mining town. the pictures were dated 1918-1927

with it being the christmas season and my thoughts full of giving and getting and family and hope for the next year, sundowne farm has really stuck with me. all of things that man had, including lady lenore, have remained behind, but the things he kept in his heart, the kind of man he was, the kindness he had, the knowledge, all of that went with him.

perhaps i can take the experience of sundowne farm and carry it with me into the next year; make it count for something. i want to be more forgiving, more kind, laugh more and stress less and create more for me to take along with me when this life of mine ends. those are the things that matter the most anyway, right? the things that i forget the fastest? at the end of the day, i'm not going to want to look at all the photographs i've taken, but all the hours i spent with my babies, the hours that i spent holding ryan's hand.