Most people would not normally associate a picture of bread with the phrase "the Good Earth".  No, most would probably conjure up a field ready for harvest, rows of grapes in a vineyard, the bountiful clusters of fruit in an orchard or maybe even a farmer bringing forth the fruits of his labors.  But for me this shot is more than a representation of what the earth can yield.  It reminds me of the farm where it was produced. 

 I'd gone to Apple Ridge Farm in Saylorsburg, Pennsylvania to take photographs of the garlic harvest.  And I spent a good portion of the morning following the farmer and his crew around taking shots of the garlic, the chickens and the other crops that were growing in the field as well as the barn, the tractor and the people.  There was a lot of pride in the integrity of their organic farming, the wholesome crops it produced and the wonderful flavors and fragrances that come from truly fresh food.    I then made my way over to the on-site bakery where a batch of artisan bread was being prepared for the brick oven.  The aroma was heavenly!  I spent some time learning about what was being made, where it would be delivered and taking photographs of bread, cookies and all sorts of baking equipment.  I realized it was just about lunchtime when I saw a large platter of sandwiches being prepared for the crew and was about to excuse myself when it was made clear that I was invited to join them.  Who could say no when every inhale filled my head with the delicious aroma of fresh bread, fresh basil, fresh tomato, fresh mozzarella- you get the picture!

There were about a dozen of us who ended up sitting in an odd collection of plastic lawn chairs and other make-shift seats around a table that held a spread fit for a king.  Along with fresh lemonade there were the aforementioned sandwiches as well as linguine with tomato sauce, fresh beets and cookies for dessert.  If your mouth isn't watering by now, I give up!  The conversation ranged from what needed to be done that afternoon before the predicted rain shower moved in to a community movie night and upcoming orders for the farmer's market.  As I listened to the conversation and watched the way they interacted with one another I was struck by this little microcosm of humanity.  Some had come from far away, some local.  While all of them were younger than myself, age did not seem to matter so much as working together.  And although many employees tolerate one another on the job and go home without so much a thought of other employees, this group actually enjoyed each other's presence and planned to socialize the following week with a pot-luck dinner.

Suddenly the phrase "the good earth" popped into my mind.  Good earth not in the sense of productive soil or bountiful harvests but good earth in the sense of the qualities of a good community made up of good people.  On the outside the plastic chairs, paper cups and disposable utensils might have looked very 21st century, but on the inside, the people here reminded me of what must have been the predominant characteristic of a community when this country of ours was primarily an agricultural society.  They were good people who looked out for the good of others, good people who offered hospitality to a budding photographer, good people who enjoyed sitting under an oak tree partaking in a good lunch.  And these good folks had put out a good spread too!

While much is made of bad people and the bad things they do in the media with the conclusion that ALL people are like this and that's the way our culture is now, I truly believe my experience at Apple Ridge Farm is more indicative of what people are really like.  In community we bear the same qualities as a loaf of artisan bread which the Good Earth produces- appealing to the eyes, fragrant and inviting to the senses and nurturing to the soul.  Although I was not one of the crew I felt right at home sitting there with them and enjoying the meal and conversation.  "This is really good!" I said and it was taken as a compliment on the food.  But in my mind I knew I was saying so much more.  So while I could wax eloquently on the virtues of community and organic farming, I'll keep it short and sweet.  Simply put, as Good Earth we are good for one another.

     We are generally trained to look for beauty in life.  I think it's our overall nature to enjoy what is good, lovely and uplifting or refreshing.  Most of the time we let someone else determine the parameters of just exactly what is beautiful, good, and so on.  We accept what advertisers, our friends, the experts, and family tell us these things are.  It's no wonder so many of us are suffering from a low self-esteem as the opinion of the list above (particularly the advertisers!) changes as quickly as the wind on the coastline or a swallow in search of dinner.  It seems that beauty, when determined by someone else, is as hard to see as objects along the road in a thick fog.

     In my undergrad days as a Fine Arts major, I studied beauty at length and even then, it was obvious that the definition of beauty changed drastically from one era to the next.  Likewise the way it was depicted changed with time.  Picasso painted a portrait far differently from the way Rembrandt did, and yet when I looked at their masterpieces, I understood that they were both beautiful.  So it is not surprising to me that the way I see and depict beauty is different from the way others see it.  It is something I've learned to do for myself and perhaps that is why I am less likely to listen to or even agree with "the experts" from Madison Avenue or the neighbor across the street!

     I was wandering about East Stroudsburg one night with several friends from a photography group.  At one point I noticed a rusty chain connected to a fire hydrant and decided that was something I'd like to capture in my camera.  While determining the best composition and what my camera was capable of capturing, I felt the presence of someone behind me but decided not to pay any attention to them until I'd gotten my shot.  It turned out to be one of my friends taking a picture of me taking a picture!  "I just love the way you see things!" he said.  I hadn't really thought about "how I see things" until he said that.  But it was true.  I have a unique way of seeing things and it comes through in what I choose to photograph and how I photograph my subjects every time.

     While I do love taking a picture of a lovely sunset, a pretty flower or any other number of natural beauties as much as the next photographer, there is one thing I've come to appreciate over the years more than these more typical subject matters- rust.  There is something about its texture, coloration and visual feel that appeals to me.  One of my friends said, "Rust finds you!"  But, truth be told, I am looking for it!  Rust often leads me to other forms of decay- peeling paint, abandoned or broken objects, rundown buildings and rotting wood; it's an odd assortment of "things I love to photograph"!

     Why do I see beauty in decay?  Perhaps it is because, in spite of all our efforts to live contrary to the law of entropy, both living and inanimate objects break down and die.  It is part of life and I see life as beautiful.  Therefore every part of it contains beauty.  While there are times when something ugly rears its head and tries to overwhelm beauty with darkness and sorrow, it is possible to refute that and find beauty beyond what seems obviously ugly.  Photography has developed my ability to see beauty in what others would deem the opposite.  I find it in the forgotten and discarded, the worn out and tired, the more rickety and broken, the more beauty may be hidden underneath.  That's how I see things and that's how they find their way into my pictures.

AHL  7/2/2015