There is perhaps nothing more practical to a man than a farm, more romantic than a garden, more poetic than an island. What is it that draws us to nature? And what allows us to forgive the wire fence, electricity pylons, or wind turbines that quietly make their way through it as they do through a farm?
Modern life has forced us to accept large-scale farming, making impossible the garden sans all signs of man-made constructions. Somehow we are ok with it, or at least, I am. Perhaps it is the knowledge that it makes our lives easier, or that it helps us eat and keep us alive, or at a deeper level this subconscious recognition that we are partakers of managing and moulding this here earth.
Or none of the above.
Either which way, it is a lovely privilege bestowed upon me by our personal Creator that I am able to careen out on an ol’ jalopy of a car out to a farm for a day or two to let a camera absorb light into it so that others can enjoy the lovely views I am paid to appreciate. Even the car ride itself is a joy; who could believe 500 hundred years ago we could travel so quickly and easily with all our favourite belongings and friends out into the “wild”?
Speaking of which, a summer road trip is on the proverbial cards, with the camera surely in tow.
Touws rivier. Riviersonderend. The end.