Threshold of Autumn
Field Notes III.XXXVII: Photographing Thomas Farms Preserve and attendant thoughts
Welcome to Field Notes!
Subtle cues hint to a turning of the seasons. Here in the South we learn to tolerate summertime. We bear the oppressive conditions by tuning them out entirely. Summer becomes agreeable only in retrospect.
It rained. And when the rain left the crushing humidity did not quite return. We noticed. Azure skies spread clear overhead, somehow devoid of a haze not perceived until its absence makes it known. The stifling heat has lost its edge.
In the evening the crickets sing an even, yet shrill tune to the fading golden light. Only then is it apparent that the undulating shrieking of cicadas in the trees has subsided.
Its September now, and the deep green of summer foliage has assumed a yellow cast. The season is still early for leaves to blush orange or red, but the slow turn is in motion. Muscadines, the wild grapes of the eastern woodlands, were in abundance this year. Their voluptuous, tart, and juicy time is short, though. They’ve only scarcely been discovered before their only remains are purple husks littering the ground beneath the vines.
Such transitional times call for attentiveness. Now, in this brief period, the apex of summer’s vibrant maturation collides with a time of winnowing- a time of culling and cutting losses. Flower petals fade too fast and with them the vitality of humming insects in the fields.
My haunts are fading fast, as well. Urban development sprawls at an unprecedented pace. Where once I found empty lands of overgrown grass, thistle, and thicket covered in grasshoppers and butterflies, now these spaces holds endless machinery scraping the earth to patch it with asphalt. Welcome to the new world of apartment complexes and business chains nobody asked for.
My response is to seek out natural spaces protected from such incursions. Thomas Farm Preserve in the town of Watkinsville, Ga is one such area that I have not yet explored. This re-purposed acreage of farmland was only made a city park this past December.
The glowing moon shines brightly in an empty sky before the dawn. It’s a disappointment, perhaps. My oracle, an app that predicts the quality of the sunrise, suggested that this one would be brilliant. I see now that the lack of clouds in the sky refute this claim.
Still, the profligate blooms underneath diffuse lunar illumination capture a quality of light indescribable by words. The visual, blended with the crisp morning air, perfectly illustrates the precipice of autumn.
Exploration of Thomas Farm Preserve reveals a land of open pasture encircled by forest. It is the quintessential American South, captured in a microcosmic snapshot of space and time.
Wandering the trails that traverse this land, I think on all of the similar local areas I once knew that have recently succumbed to development. Cows from a neighboring property watch as I explore and come closer to investigate. What do they perceive about the turning of the season that I have failed to grasp?
Into the forest at the back of the property. Calls Creek forms the border between the preserve and the subdivision beyond. Most people do not venture this far back. This clear stream maintains its wild aspect, despite its proximity to the docile and submissive houses beyond its outskirts.
I wonder. Do the profound mysteries of nature bend to the encroachment of man? Perhaps the entire notion of civilization is an hubristic fantasy?
This juxtaposition of the natural and the fabricated here makes me consider what in life is authentic. I attempt to capture the highest quality of the ‘natural’ in a photograph; to convey the emotional impact of unrefined nature. Yet to do this I place a leaf or two in the foreground of a stream composition. It adds color, contrast, and interest to the scene and makes it more impactful.
Still, it is a lie.
A small cascade and what can be considered, maybe, a true waterfall. Here there is no lie. Though a house stands in close proximity, I manipulate nothing in the physical space. Is there a lie? The long exposure blurs the course of the water in a way not perceived by the human eye, so maybe that is it. Perhaps it is in the way I manipulate the contrast and the color in the final work.
Ultimately, I seek to convey an experience more so than the objective physicality of a place and the transition times between the seasons highlight this character.
Early spent leaf litter on the forest floor contrasts with hitherto vibrant green foliage. The significance of that realization is what I observe and attempt to describe in an image. Perhaps sights and experiences are unique to the individual, but if so what are the consequences? Does that make me a liar? Maybe so.
Thomas Farm Preserve at the very onset of autumn! This place is only 10 minutes from my home, so I plan to visit it often.
I personally write each of these essays and eschew any form of AI input. So, if these ideas or experiences resonated with you in any way, let me know in the comments!
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Beautiful images Erik. I love the shots with the flowers in the foreground, they are the sort of shots I love creating and will often seek out similar compositions.
I too have wondered about the authenticity of my images - it is something I have written about in the past. I try to photograph what a wild space feels like to me so I make sure I omit any people or litter or sometimes any evidence of man when it might be standing right next to me. Maybe all our images are lies in some way? We can never tell the full story because we are always omitting something.
I think all our images are the product of our unique voices - I don't think we are liars as such we are just reacting to the things that are important to us and the message we want to share. I could spend my time documenting the destruction of the countryside through the building of housing estates and industrial areas ( and there is so much of that going on here) but instead I choose to celebrate the beauty and the wonder of the natural world in the hope that more people will seek it out. I suspect you probably do the same. 🙂
A great article Erik and one that resonated with me.
All photography (and any other visual arts) requires choices on what is included in the frame and what is excluded. These are choices in service of the story we want to tell. This can be difficult at the liminal space between nature and human - but you choose to focus on the natural elements of the park and this is the story you tell. Lovely images Erik.