The sampling of miniature pumpkins tossed into a classic red wheelbarrow were the first to catch my eye as I zipped down Tuscarora Road in Chittenango. The barn red paint on the self serve shed supported two leaning signs. One read "CORN", the other read "LOCAL HONEY". I tapped the brake knowing my camera sat in the backseat of the car, but I was also running a bit behind schedule.
I kept driving... and considering. Driving... and comtemplating. The images of Autumn were too rich to resist. I turned the car around and doubled back a half mile to the Durfee Farm. I pulled into the stone driveway. Pulled out the Canon camera and started to shoot.
The shade of a giant old oak tree filtered the midday sun creating a rich blend of light. These farmers knew how to set up a display to recall that nostalgia. I could almost smell the cinnamon of an apple pie baking or the cinders of an open fire. I dreamed of a cup of fresh apple cider. There was something about the piles of pumpkins sitting on a flatbed surrounded by drying corn stalks that spoke to me. They said this is fall in Central New York.
With my widest angle, fastest lens attached I framed each shot searching for an image deep in color and texture from front to back. The soft out of focus background of one stack of pumpkins set up the wagon load full of gourds in the foreground. The vibrancy of each shot felt even better in the warmth of the September sun that had taken off the morning chill.
I spent less than ten minutes at the farm. It was instantly clear I had made the right choice. Sometimes you just have to stop and smell the roses ... or the pumpkins. It will put a smile on your face.
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