Film Friday: out of the city
It’s Friday, which in most cases means I post some recent images I’ve taken on film.
Here are a few other Film Fridays to peruse at your leisure.
All images were shot using Kodak Portra 400 using a Canon A1 50mm 1.4.
We can get there in just over an hour and once I’m there it’s hard to pry me away. I’ve always had a sweet spot for Skagit county and all the lush farmland that surrounds it but now that my parents recently moved there I’ve fallen more in love.
At my core I am a city girl, thriving in the midst of the hustle, comforted by the glare of lights and the soothing murmur of life that rarely sleeps. Removed from the city for extended periods of time and I get itchy for the culture that is prevalent in the form of restaurants, theater, museums and diversity. But with two energetic young boys and a little girl who is starting to cross the line from baby into toddler-hood, we need more than our 10×20 foot yard to stretch our legs.
Directly off the exit for my parents house we are welcomed to farm country with rows and rows of lush greens that hide potatoes just under the deep, dense soil. It’s a county where cows seem to outnumber the residents and the radiant light appears more gold and alive than our familiar city sun. Down any unassuming, country road we are bound to hit a vegetable stand, a dairy farm, cheese stand, gourmet food shops, or an incredible bakery.
Back at the little farm that is my parent’s house my children and their cousins converge to play. For hours on end they roam the yard returning only for nourishment in the form of juice and fruit snacks (it is grandma and grandpa’s house after all, where spoiling is a prerequisite). With dirt under their fingernails they are delighted at the chance to visit the cows and feed the chickens.
Yesterday’s excursion to the little farm brought with it hours of entertainment in the form of the neighbor using a large backhoe to clear out part of the woods behind the house. Seven little children lined up against the white picket fence to view the excitement that no TV show could ever produce. They stood there in silent awe as the neighbor moved the bucket of the tractor up and down as if the tractor was waving to the kids. They laughed in delight then scurried off to the next adventure.
On another recent trip Baron, my mom and I visited a local berry farm to pick our fill of strawberries. We were given the option of walking or riding the tractor to the picking fields. With a five year old boy in our midst the choice was clear – we rode the tractor.
In a scene reminiscent of Blueberries for Sal
A half-hour and fourteen pounds later we packed up our ruby treasure and headed home where I joyfully cleaned and froze all of the berries destined for smoothies, jam perhaps or simply to be saved as a taste of summer when the dreary winter months are upon us.
This morning we are back in the city. I walked a half block from my house to the bakery up the street to grab a coffee and a croissant, showering buttery flakes with every bite. On the short walk home the Space Needle towers over the skyline as Mt. Rainer desperately tries peek out of the clouds that are rapidly fading as the sun (yes! SUN!) begs them to leave. I am happy to be home yet comforted knowing that the little farm awaits our return when our legs and minds need to stretch.
