Tobacco Rowed

Behind the Photograph

“Sometimes the photographs we value most aren't of extraordinary places. They're of ordinary places that become extraordinary because of what they remind us.”

“Funny how the things we worked hardest to get away from become the things we most enjoy remembering.”

Every now and then, going home gives you the chance to see familiar things as though you're seeing them for the first time.

My sister was showing us around our old Kentucky home one afternoon when we came upon this tobacco field.

I told her to stop.

There wasn't a spectacular sunset.

No old barn.

No weathered fence.

Just row after row after row of young tobacco plants stretching across the field.

The symmetry was impossible to ignore.

The farther I looked, the more those rows seemed to pull my eyes toward the horizon.

I knew I had to take the photograph.

Standing there, I couldn't help but think about another time.

When I was a teenager, I spent one summer working in tobacco.

If you've never done it, let me assure you...

It builds character.

It also builds sore muscles.

Back then, tobacco wasn't something I admired.

It was hot days.

Long rows.

Sweat.

Dirty hands.

And wondering more than once if quitting was a good idea.

Funny how time changes your perspective.

Years later, those same rows no longer reminded me of hard work.

They reminded me of home.

Now, before anyone gets too impressed with my dedication to photography, I should probably confess something.

When I took this picture, I happened to be standing right beside a No Trespassing sign.

I'm hoping the statute of limitations has expired.

If not...

Let's just keep that between us.

Looking back, I think that's one of the gifts photography has given me.

It slows me down long enough to appreciate things I used to hurry past.

As a teenager, I saw work.

Today, I see patterns.

Texture.

Light.

Memory.

Sometimes growing older doesn't change the world.

It simply changes the way we look at it.

Photographer's Notes

Western Kentucky

Summer · Canon T3i

Afternoon

With my sister Sarah and Nada

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