Photo & Poem: Home Farm

Skeletal power poles from the wind
turbines out east litter the view of the
mountains, splintering the sunset. New
construction treads closer, tract homes

and fast food. This farm was never
announced by miles of white vinyl fencing,
just a mailbox at the end of the driveway.
There are mismatched fence panels,

some white, some brown, some dented
by horseplay. The paddock gates were
hung true but impatient hooves have forced
a tilt while waiting for hay. Fence posts

always need replacing. We could use
some paint and a few truckloads of
fill dirt and pea gravel to replace what
the prairie wind has stolen. Keep the

unglamorous list; the chores I hated as a
kid have become a source of solace, a matter
of pride. Hold steady, home farm, don’t
quit on us. Walking the fence line picking

up Styrofoam and grocery bags, as the herd
of displaced deer move to the pond to drink,
scattering ducklings like skipping stones, high
tension lines reflected on the water surface.

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

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Anna Blake

21 thoughts on “Photo & Poem: Home Farm”

  1. “Hold steady,home Farm, don’t quit on us” I so miss my Ohio Farm of 25 years…. raised my two sons there and it was Parker’s first home with me ……thanks for the tears in my coffee Anna. Kim Griffin

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  2. I empathize. I see it on our own little 200 acre paradise. The night sky illuminated by electricity where once there was nothing but stars. The dirt lane off of a dirt road that used to transport me to another world is no longer long enough to leave it all behind. The encroaching invasion brings resentful sadness.

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  3. I have lived on the front range for 40 years. I have moved 5 times easterly to escape the growing development and congestion, but there’s no place to go to escape it anymore. Every time I see another prairie turned into tract homes; a little piece of my heart breaks. I feel like a sentinel at my 5 acre home; prepared for battle with the inevitable encroachment.

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  4. We left New Jersey for a farm in rural Virginia 15 years ago. Your words, so accurate, so sad, the change is happening here, it is NOT progress…

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  5. “Country” in NYS the same. Moved out here 30 some years ago on my own little 4 acres. More houses on this road all the time too. Have woods up back and trails for my dog & me (and deer, squirrels,chipmunks, rabbits etc) so still feels pretty much enclosed here. Love it here.

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  6. I never considered the 7+ acres we moved to 20 years ago a farm. A farmette? But was so much bigger than the 2 acres our 3 geldings lived on before we left for greener pastures! In the years since, humanity has discovered our band wagon — miles away from a sizable city — and hopped on. I used to stress about it until I started looking at who I moved here for. I see only them now when I head outside. You could say I have tunnel vision😁

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  7. In the demolition process of creating a separate apartment in my old house for rental income (any horse lovers looking to move?), we discovered a Seattle area newspaper in the wall with the news from the actual day I was born in the 50s. Destiny confirmed. It also said there had been a UFO sighting that day. That explained a lot.

    Meanwhile, the noise from the huge earth movers in the forest across the road begins at 7:15 am every day. They’re coming: big houses for wealthy techies to live where bear and cougar now roam. Neither are prepared for the other.

    The toolies keep moving out faster than my horses and I can afford to live in them.

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    • Well, maybe charge the techies more for the apartment rent? Have to go check out UFO sightings for a certain date, it would explain… Take care, Michelle. Good to hear from you.

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  8. “Home farm”….love it. I think it’s a state of mind more than GPS coordinates.

    I have lived on three…5 acres in Enumclaw, WA where the McMansions are starting to block out the glory of Mt. Rainier in the distance. 40 acres in the frontier, high-country cattle lands of New Mexico where the wind farms are invading. And now a little 5 acre piece in Lewis County, WA. A 85 year old Craftsman bungalow just big enough for our retirement years. And a glorious 95 year old dairy barn turned horse barn that sits on the state’s Historic Barn Register.

    We looked at this one differently. Where can we live where no one else wants to…or can? We are surrounded by Christmas tree farms, then a very young commercial forest that shouldn’t be harvested until after we are gone…then Mt. Rainier National Park.

    I think we are good for now.

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  9. Australia, on someone else’s “home farm” a family thing for over 100 years. A hidden valley to where bushrangers would bolt and never be found. (Road agents, highwaymen, fugitives of the Law). Small farms along a 25 km tar road to nowhere, it simply ends. That is a plus, no through traffic, mostly locals. Surrounded by hills and bushland and a National Park, none of it accessable, plenty of wire, no gates. Nowhere to ride, go up the road, go down the road, or do a bit of flat work at home, none of which satisfies me or the horse. Least of all the horse, she has never learned to clamber steadily in rough country, is testy and unhappy without a fence around her, thankfully not afraid of vehicles, few drivers having any empathy with horses.

    The last time developers tried, we had a range war! They lost, it was almost old fashioned savagery. Coal mines also had a look, coal is everywhere, but here is a wealth of underground water, so they went away, and we still grow alfalfa. War with coal mines is the biggest thing going, all over the best thoroughbred breeding area in Aus.

    Most of the people here commute to work (at coal mines), pretend farmers, a few pretend horse people, and only 4 real horse people. Such is the modern way.

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    • You Aussies make me smile. Range war… wish we had the gumption. We got lied to about the wind turbines, not that it matters now. I have it good, clients of mine live under them. Everyone here commutes to work, hard to survive on a farm these days. Thanks, Louise.

      Reply
  10. You are so very talented. Your entire poem/prose is a sensory experience of the mundane and the spiritual. I really enjoy your posts.

    Reply

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