Ilex and Rosehips, A Farm Photo Essay

Farmers are no strangers to sunrise. In fact, I would be willing to bet that most farmers find the predawn light the nicest time of day. The winds are calm, a lingering wispy fog dances across the landscape and there is a crispness in the air that will vanish like the stars when the sun rises.

Geese welcoming the day.

Last week, I arrived at our farm in Willow Creek, California at about 6 AM. I was ahead of Vincente and his picking team so the gate was still closed. I jiggled the lock until it came free and then I was able to pull into the dark dirt road that leads to the ilex and rosehips. The fields are at the end of a twisty road, which leads down from a ridge to the Trinity River bed.

Ilex bushes, heavy with berries

The first thing you are aware of as you step out of the car, is that you are not alone. My headlights likely scared off a black bear, the tell tale signs are everywhere... and the evidence is fresh.

Taking photographs in the early light of dawn is a rewarding challenge. With the sun moving surprisingly fast below the horizon, you know you only have a set amount of time, before the light changes from the "magic hour" to just ordinary flat daylight.

Rosehips catching the light.

The red hues of the ilex and rosehips seem to attract the limited light, as the saturated berries possess a quiet luminescence.

You can't help but feel close to the land; the only sound is your own foot steps, the rhythmic drone of the river and occasional honks from geese sleeping in the reeds along the river's edge.

Ilex berries close-up

So much of the flower world is tied to spotless photo shoots, crystal vases and arrangements which almost look artificial. As I peer through the view finder of my camera, I see the farm as part of an eco-system, and part of a natural community, with the farmers as care takers. The sparrows are awake now popping in and out of the bushes, red berries clutched in their beaks.

Over the course of a year we grow many crops here, beside ilex and rosehips. Cotinus (which we are still harvesting!), Viburnum, Snowberries and other crops that like hot days and cool nights.

The Trinity River

The tone of this small farm is set by the river. The Trinity flows steadily past the fields, making its way to the confluence with the Klamath River, then on to the Pacific. Home to eagles, otters and salmon, the river still flows strong even after a dry summer.

I hear another sound echoing down the valley, the sound is man made. I look up to see a John Deere trudging slowly down the ridge, towing a trailer which will soon be filled with bright red berries, the sun still hasn't shown except on the tip of the opposite side of the valley.

Farmers commute

The days work begins, not at break neck speed, but at a steady, reliable pace. The work will follow the course of the sun across the sky, until it dips below the horizon on the far side of the valley. These days will be repeated, through the fall, moving to where the rosehips and ilex are the ripest and ready to pick.

I make my way back up the road, slowly gaining elevation as I climb out of the valley. Something pulls at my attention. Instinctively, I set up the camera on the tri-pod, the geese I heard earlier are grouping up to continue their journey south. Just as I think I have missed the moment, they decide to take one more tour of the farm, forming a perfect "V" over the ilex.

Click.