Ten Photographs: Nature, Farms, and Food

Every branch of every deciduous tree was encased in ice. I looked out into a valley bordered by gentle hills. As far as I cold see in every direction it seemed as if vast flows of silver and lead had poured over the landscape, congealed, and tarnished. Solitary pines stood out black against the gray slopes and punctuated their recession into the distance. The metallic forests were linked by shapely fields, some, still bristling with autumn stubble, grayish buff in tone; others, recently plowed, a rich, almost black, brown. The hazy white sky drained the scene of all but the faintest tinge of color. As I set the car in motion again, sparks of light flashed in the branches closeby and darted over the distant hills. This bizarre view of the Holmes County landscape seemed then more like some volcanic desert than the gently sculpted hills and fields, which Amish farmers had over generations molded into the image of their homelands in Germany.