Back to the Farm

Photo by: Tim Bindner

Yesterday afternoon I got a text from a local farmer. He responded to a text I sent a few days earlier asking him when they plan to cut. His response is “we are finishing up at another location but should be home this afternoon”.

I have been to this farm before and spoke to the owner Daryl a few times since. He is a kind man, likely in his seventies, and has had this farm in his family for generations. Here is a link to my blog post from my last visit – https://timothybme.com/down-on-the-farm/.

Arriving at the farm, I saw to my right a few machines had already begun cutting down the corn stalks. There were a few semi-trucks in front of me, so I snaked my way past them and parked in a grass field opposite the corn field.

I grabbed my camera and headed for the expansive corn fields of Hauswald Farms. The area below Highway 62 in the picture above is all the farms. Today I was where the gray Hauswald Farm pointer was on the map. All my shots were in the field to the left of the marker above.

I entered the cut portion of the cornfield and heard the loud machines and saw smoke rising from the dust in the air, but couldn’t see the enormous machine yet. Suddenly, the combine turned the corner, and I could see it coming straight towards me. I quickly glanced behind me, then started taking pictures as this mechanical marvel slowly moved closer. The person inside waved, and I wondered what they thought of this 55-year-old fool playing chicken with him? For reference, I was never in danger the entire time I was here. These machines move slowly, and I was vigilant enough to ensure I was not accidentally in the path of these beasts.

There were three machines in this field. I found out later there were a few more in a field down the road that was owned by the same farmer. As mentioned, there was a combine harvester and two plows.

The entire day had been gray and overcast. I was concerned I would not have dramatic skies for the shots. It happened, however, that the sun was setting, and the skies broke. This provided me with various rays of sunshine, warm glows from the corn, fields and the dust, and dramatic clouds.

Soon Daryl parked one plow, drove a truck down the driveway to be filled up with corn, and came over to chat. The combine was now directly cutting in front of me and as I shot it, Daryl said, “you like that one? It cost me one million dollars.” My eyes got big. He continued, “people don’t understand. Last week alone our fuel bill. Fuel alone was $12,000. For seven days. $12,000” he repeated.

Looking around, I saw six semi-trucks, these three machines, in the field. Two other tractors parked by my car, and later realized there were multiple other pieces of farm equipment in another field on their property. At this location, there was a large farmhouse, three silos, and multiple buildings. The amount of money spent on all that stuff was mind-blowing.

Daryl explained the combine had GPS, and programming. He told me you program the percentage of loss, hit start, and it does all the work. He said all you must do is have a “butt in the seat to ensure it stays on course and doesn’t run over photographers.” Daryl smiled. I smiled.

As I watched the sun go down. The machines continued to kick up dust. The corn stalks get leveled, and even his granddaughter loaded the semi with corn from one plow she was driving. My anxiety left me. I was taking in the smells, getting covered in dust, feeling the warmth of the sun and the machines, and listening. Listening to the hum of the mowers when they were close and the hum fade as they drove off in the distance.

Multiple workers were leaving in their pickup trucks, and each one stopped when they saw me. As each truck approached me, they slowed down, rolled down their windows, and either asked if I was taking wonderful pictures or inquired about what I was doing. All with smiles on their dirty faces. I asked one of them before he left if they knew where Daryl was, so I could say goodbye. His response was, “no one ever knows where Daryl is. He is around here somewhere. Take care, buddy.” As he smirked and drove off.

Upon sharing my pictures with friends, Tricia stated, “There you go again, creating feelings with your pictures.”  Troy also commented, “Wow. They tell a story and give you a lot of different perspectives. The spirituality, the tough life, the giant mechanical beast, the heaven above. Wow.”

I spent about two or two and a half hours there shooting, talking, and enjoying the moments. I pass this farm every time I go into town. This time, like the last, has a special place in my heart and memory. A simple thing, but I really love the farmers’ way of life, and am so glad I got the chance to capture a small piece of it. It is a dying profession, and I am glad I got to talk to one of the old timers who still does it.

As John Mellencamp wrote in his song Small Town, “I live in a small town, and I can breathe in a small town.” Me too John. Me too!

Until next time,

Tim