Heirloom Apples

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Heirloom apples grow on our farm in Grays Chapel, North Carolina. Less perfect and more disease susceptible than modern hybrid varieties, nevertheless, their taste is superior.

Molasses Creek

I went by an afternoon concert in High Point on Sunday and heard neighbor and Grays Chapel native Gerald Hampton play his mandolin with the band Molasses Creek. A hot evening produced some hot music. Along with Gerald, Gary Mitchell, Dave Tweedie, Marcy Brenner and Lou Castro (all four from Ocracoke Island), produce tight instrumentals and smooth vocals. Their repertoire goes from Bob Wills tunes to Peter Paul and Mary to original work with Cape Breton style fiddle. It goes from the Ink Spots to Dolly Parton and to traditional bluegrass with the addition of world class banjo picker, Stan Brown from Coleridge. For more info and to hear the band, go to http://www.molassescreek.com.







(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Four Figs on a Table Versus One in a Bush

Still-fife photographs of figs.

(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Bovine Nursery

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Portrait of a mother and her offspring, Grays Chapel, North Carolina.

Zimmerman Vineyards

I stopped by Zimmerman Vineyards this past weekend. Norman and Leslie Zimmerman run Randolph County's first and only winery. They produce a variety of very fine red and white wines on their property near the Uwharrie River. Norman is passionate about his grapes and his wine. You can purchase wine on site and they have a tasting room. For more info, check their website at http://www.zimmermanvineyards.net/.

Laying Eggs, a Group Effort

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

We have about a dozen laying hens in our backyard chicken run, and we have eight laying boxes. So, you would expect eggs to be pretty evenly distributed among the boxes. Go figure.

The Deer Skull

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

The deer skull

We hear them snorting in the woods
at night amidst the pine tree groves.
From time to time we see them graze
on fescue hay that's meant for cows
but grows in fields that they call home.
They come and go in herds or pairs
or single bucks in search of does.
And usually we have a few
who stay with us from year to year.

One night when we were coming home
we saw a buck across the road
that stood as if he were a king
surveying all his open land.
We shined our lights and watched him match
our gaze with both his glowing eyes.
He had at least a dozen points
or more above his massive neck;
his veins and muscles stretched and bulged
to show that he was in the rut.
Behind him there were does and fawns
and younger bucks with lesser racks
that darted when we shined the light.

But he with amber-fearless eyes,
not lost within a mindless trance,
held strongly to his daunting pose
until we took our lights and left.

We've always let the deer roam free
without the threat hunters' guns.
But poachers sometimes stop at night
along the road to spotlight deer
then aim to shoot towards our barn,
or even towards our house and cows,
because they're drunk or simply bored.
And when they do, we spotlight them
with two or three bright beams of light
until they grab their guns and run
as if they are the hunted ones.
They get their kicks and power trips
from killing peaceful animals,
but none of them have ever stood
as steadfast as that burly buck.

(Poetry copyright 2010 by Devin Routh. Used with permission.)

Joepyeweed

Butterflies are abundant this year on our farm in Grays Chapel, North Carolina. In fact, I don't remember ever having as many in our yard. There are literally hundreds. Sometimes it seems as if our yard is alive and moving in one big dance. Part of the reason is my wife has chosen plants and flowers for our yard that attract the butterflies, but another big reason is the large number of wildflowers we have growing on other parts of the farm. I clip my pastures, but I don't trim close to the creeks and fence lines and the result is a large population of plants such as joepyeweed which act a magnet for all sorts of butterflies. I didn't set out to do it on purpose, but a lack of time and money to keep things manicured has resulted in an abundance of wildlife.

(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Friday Face

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Portrait, university student, Greensboro, North Carolina.

Peaches and Melons

Still life photographs from Candor, North Carolina. The Candor area is a center for all sorts of fresh produce, but it is known best for its peaches and melons, and this time of the year, there are a lot of both available.

(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Truman's Limo

Sunday my son and I stopped by the North Carolina Aviation Museum in Asheboro, North Carolina to take a look at their newest artifact, a 1948 Lincoln limousine used by President Harry Truman. At 6500 pounds, with bullet proof doors and a Sherman tank transmission, it's quite a vehicle and will soon be undergoing restoration. Above, local attorney Alan Pugh sits in the seat that the President occupied many times. Alan considers Harry Truman his favorite modern President.




(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Turtle Fishing

Turtle Fishing

Under stagnant algae blooms
where slimy catfish feast on muck,
a spiny snapping turtle looms
before it bites a baited hook.

He sinks the point into his beak
then feels a tugging from the line
towards which he cannot help but creep
and follow with his ancient mind.

It leads him right up to the edge
of where the water meets the air;
A skillful hand then starts to dredge
his shell out from his muddy lair.

The turtle now alone on land
begins to hiss and snap with ire.
My grandpa then wipes off his hand
to cock the .410 bore and fire.

I watch him then remove the hook
to add a piece of beef as bait.
It was the second time he took
a turtle from the pond that day.

"I'm only gonna take a few,"
he said before he cut the beef.
"We'll only get the old ones who
are eating all the baby geese."

The buzzards would have only five
big shells to pick away for meat.
The goslings then could learn to fly
with baby turtles at their feet.

There was a time I wondered why
we could not let the turtles thrive.
But looking back I realize
that death helps new things come alive.


(Poetry copyright 2010 by Devin Routh. Used with permission.)

(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Jars of Beans

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Still life of canned beans, part of next winter's larder.

Feeding Time

Hens queue up to the feed bowl in the afternoon in our backyard in Grays Chapel, North Carolina.

(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Sage

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Sage, black and white still life.

Fixing Fence

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Fixing Fence

With wire stretchers, fencing tools,
a spool of wire, galvanized
new staples and ten-penny nails
we'd pack the Gator with the tools
to fix whatever fence was down.
An aged elm with rotting limbs
might fall just near a pasture's edge,
or herds of deer might jump the fence
and nick the top lines with their hooves.
Before we'd start, we'd clear the brush
and briars from the cedar posts
that stood before my Grandpa Routh
was even born; they'll never rot.
I'd dread the prick of those damn plants
because they always stuck me more
than any of the metal barbs
adorning all the fence our cows
could lean against without a care.
My brother Tristan, Dad, and I
would all wear gloves to keep our hands
from being tattered while we worked.
But Grandpa Routh would skip the gloves,
his hands were like a white oak's bark.
His arms, however, weren't the same;
they'd tear and drip with viscous blood,
but never once in all those days
do I recall him grimacing.
When I was young, I wondered how
it felt to feel what pain was like
if I were him with all his years.
I'd know the pain of sawing off
my finger, feel the stitches used
to sew it back so I could bend
it better than the other ones
arthritis would consume with age.
I'd know a thousand hammer blows
intended for a nail or tack
that hit my fingernails instead.
To live and farm like he once did,
to stretch a wire taut and straight
or clear a tangled briar patch,
to use the tools as he was taught
when he spent time with his grandpa,
would be to know the pain involved
and know what makes it worth it all.

(Poetry copyright 2010 by Devin Routh. Used with permission.)

Checking Things Out

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Spectators at the Peach Festival in Candor, North Carolina, 2010.

Summer Dinner

Summertime at our home in Grays Chapel, North Carolina means fresh vegetables and fruit, and with my wife and daughter-in-law working together in the kitchen, dinner is a special time. Friday, there was a crumb top plum pie fresh from our trees and flash fried okra with eggplant parmesan made with fresh eggplant and marinara sauce from the garden. Add fresh tomatoes and cantaloupe and you're good to go.

(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Friday Farm Fashion

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Commercial casual fashion image.

"Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries."

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Still life of cherries.

Julian Mill

(Photograph copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Feed mill. Julian, North Carolina.

Baby Calves

We're in the middle of calving on our farm in Grays Chapel, North Carolina. Our breeding schedule is a little off and it is a little late in the year with all the hot weather, but the cows and the calves seem to be handling things pretty well. We have a set of twins this year, which isn't all that unusual, but what is unusual for us anyway is that the mama is taking care of both of them very well without our assistance. Sometimes, cows get confused with twins and we have to bottle raise one of them. This mom, who my wife has named "Queen", seems to have things well in hand although she certainly has her hands full.


(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)

Long Island Harbor

Late afternoon, Northport harbor, Long Island, New York. July 2010.



(Photographs copyright 2010 by Dan Routh)