When I first started venturing out for my Fallen Farms series of photos I discovered that there are more of these than I would have expected. I suppose they were harder to demolish and either haul away or bury. Whatever the reason, they do look pretty neat in a wistful way.
I had the opportunity to stop by one of BIsmarck-Mandan’s nearest ghost towns recently, and although I only had a few minutes to grab some handheld photos before dashing back to town I was able to get a couple I liked. Naturally I want to share.
The church above, I believe, is on its last legs. Its cinder block foundation has lost its walls on the long sides, and all four corners are beginning to crumble. Already the structure is beginning to bow in the middle. This is such a picturesque old church, it’s sad to see its demise imminent.
I don’t believe I have ever photographed the Arena elevator before, and as I rolled up I was given a fantastic window of light as the sun passed through a sliver in the clouds. I took several shots from the window of my truck, but opted to go all JJ Abrams on this one and use the one with lens flare. I don’t usually do much with lens flare, but I thought it really worked in this instance.
I’m slowly easing back into one of my favorite pastimes: sharing my love of North Dakota in pictures. Even going back to a familiar place and revisiting it one more time presents its own new opportunity, because it seems we never have the same weather or lighting twice. For that reason I can confidently predict that this isn’t the last time I’ll be sharing photos of Arena, ND.
A while back I had an afternoon to play with, so I took a trip to Morton County for some photos. I wanted to check in on the Gray House, a great photo stop in the little town of Sims. Treasures like this don’t stand forever, so I wanted to see if anything had changed and exercise the cameras for a little while.
I wanted to take another crack at this shot in particular. I’d done it from the other side, against the wall that’s in the right of this photo, shooting over the back of the chair. That photo was in portrait format, tall instead of wide. I wanted to get one that would work for a calendar or other horizontal use, and so I grabbed some lighting and made my way westward. I’m pretty pleased with the result.
Normally I don’t approach the structures in my Fallen Farms series of photos, much less enter them, but this one’s special. It isn’t posted, it seems relatively stable, and that view! Oh my goodness, the view.
I hope this home stays intact for many years to come, but the years are not kind to old structures like this…especially near the end. Click here to view a PDF with more history about Sims and this old house.
My calendar was clear Friday afternoon, so I decided to knock off early and head out with my camera. As the recent dearth of photos on this blog has illustrated, I haven’t had a lot of camera time lately. I figured I could clear my head and work out any photo-atrophy that may have set in by venturing west. I hadn’t been to Sims lately, so I figured I would check it out…most notably the Gray House. While the title of this post could have actually referred to Friday morning’s sky, the sun came out by the time I rolled into Morton County.
I’ve tried this shot before but figured I’d take another crack at that too. It’s a real challenge to match the interior light with the bright, sunny scene outside.
I poked around the house a little bit, then pointed the camera in the other direction for an additional Fallen Farm. I believe the concrete steps in the foreground are from the old Sims Schoolhouse, which has been relocated to west of Almont.
After poking around the site for a little while, I took off for a date night with my sweet wife. We still have a lot to keep us busy in the next few months, but I’m hoping for plenty more opportunities to get out with my camera and share the results here.
It’s kind of ironic. The latest reason why I haven’t been able to enjoy my photo hobby, and share the fruits of it here, is because we’re building a house. So when I do get a chance to go out and capture some North Dakota for y’all, I photograph something that’s being slowly deconstructed by time.
I’ve approached this particular barn from other angles in various seasons, but for this shot I was able to locate the proper people to ask permission to approach it closely. It looks much better this way than it did from the road!
Meanwhile, my project is coming to fruition and I hope to be a homeowner again soon. Then you can expect a lot more rants here about property taxes! I’ll try to smother them in fresh, new photography though.
I made it to Minot for a day trip (I thought about making a Day Tripper reference, with Sir Paul playing in Fargo, but decided against it) and found myself nearing Wilton as the sunset approached. That’s a good thing, because I wanted an excuse to stop and take a photo of this old barn before it’s torn down…and this time of year puts it right in line with the setting sun.
I’ve been sentimental about this particular barn because it was one of my first photographic subjects when I decided to get a Canon 7D. I took a friend up to this barn and he let me use his new 7D for a test drive, and before long I revisited it with one of my own. As you can see, the barn was in far better shape back then, with a stone addition off to one side. Even in this photo you can see age beginning to take its toll.
There’s a lot of this sunset that I missed, but I wanted to get my two little towheads back to town and tucked into bed so they will wake up in time for church tomorrow. I was groaning as I looked over at that blazing red sun and all the colors it was splashing across the sky, but I pressed on – knowing that I already had a variety of killer sunset photos in the bag.
Boy, it sure feels great to get out again.
This goes out to my online pal Jason, who challenged me a while back to deliver a) a windmill photo, and b) a broken-down farm building photo. What I haven’t posted, due to things being a little busy around here, are my responses – acquired on May 26th, 2014.
First, I’d like to present the windmill above. This is one of my favorite windmills, but I didn’t just dart out to it in order to satisfy a request. This was actually on the return leg of the previously posted trip with my little boys, when I had my youngest out southwest of Mandan. In fact, I have already posted an additional windmill photo from that trip, the one with the damaged fins…but I’ve been meaning to share this one just because the colors were so dynamic.
Next is this old house and the remains of its garage, which sit along the road to Fish Creek Dam. That’s where I took my little guy to show him the bench out on the lookout point – if you don’t know about it, I’ll have to post a little explanation later. I’ve wanted to approach this house for a while, and the land isn’t posted, but there are currently cattle on the land. I guess I’ll have to wait, and let this shot from the road suffice for a while.
I’m on the mend now, and while I act as a recliner pilot and nurse the wounds from my most recent DaVinci robot attack, I’m going to try to dig back through the hard drive for shots like these. I have dozens of photos I’ve taken with every intention of sharing here, but have somehow neglected or forgotten over time. I think I’ll find some gems in there, and for the next few weeks I’ll have plenty of time on my hands to work with ’em.
Stay tuned!
Sadly, this is pretty much the last hurrah of one of my favorite sunset photo subjects: the post at the northwest corner of the Double Ditch site. I visited the site last night for a long overdue sunset photo, and found that it’s barely hanging on.
I posted last year about how this post was endangered by the erosion which was causing the cliffs of Double Ditch to collapse. At that time, it still had a little bit of dirt holding it somewhat in place.
I hadn’t actually done anything really stupid lately, so I thought I’d hold my camera out over the top of the post. As you can see, there’s nothing holding it from tumbling into the Big Muddy except the strands of rusty barbed wire which tether it to the metal posts further from the abyss.
Here are some of my favorite sunset photos taken from this location, for comparison:
As you can see, this has been a photogenic and dependable subject for me over many sunsets over the past nine years.
Again, you can see that the only thing holding it up this far is the tenacious grip of that rusty barned wire. Well, you had a good run, faithful post. It’s sad to see you go. I’m glad I could get one last sunset photo in before the inevitable happens.
Yes, I know that title should probably contain a comma. 🙂
I’ve tried not to lament too loudly that recent circumstances had prevented me from doing much, if any, photography. Believe me, it has been very frustrating. Well, I got the chance to take my littlest boy, stuff him in the pickup with my cameras, and roam some back roads for a while over Memorial Day. This is my favorite result so far.
I have a saying that if I bring back just one good photo from any excursion, it’s been a successful trip. Most have been successful, some have been bonanzas, but all have been necessary therapy. I enjoy exploring North Dakota and capturing it in digital images. In the case of Monday’s trip, I had some blessed time with my little guy, I got a bunch of photos I think I’ll like once I process them, and I brought home this one that was truly exciting.
I’m thankful for a successful trip. I needed this.
You may have seen this little hut along I-94, where it would seem to have been deposited after having been plucked from Middle Earth. I didn’t want to show the signs on either side of the roof in this photo, but I’ll tell you the web address they contained: rusticway.com.
That’s the website of a guy who makes interesting creations made from reclaimed wood rescued from dilapidated farmsteads. As an aficionado of such sites I couldn’t help but be instantly enamored with the idea. From the site’s About page, talking about artisan Dan Pauly:
“As I uncover an old barn or shed,” Dan says, “I realize that it could be the same lumber that my great-grandfather used more than 100 years ago. I think that respect for the craftsmen and craftswomen of the past, and for the wood they used, make a difference in each new piece I create. Until you have dismantled an old barn, you can’t imagine the painstaking effort it took from Old-World craftsmen to erect it. They were each a work of art.”
Pretty cool, huh? Click on the link and go take a look.