Abandoned

The rusty piece of antiquated farm equipment lies dreaming alone in a field just beyond an old rail fence on a forgotten dirt road in Lanark, and it is one which I drive by frequently, managing to forget about it much of the time. It forms part of a photography sequence to be called "Abandoned" which will one day include most (if not all) of the old fences, farmhouses, barns and abandoned agricultural implements of the Lanark Highlands.

In its own quiet way, the old plough bears poignant witness to the timeless rhythms of sowing and reaping which have powered, fueled and sustained this quiet place for centuries, and it is a silent reminder of the kind of courage, stubbornness, dedication, backbreaking toil and love required to settle in this rocky forested place, create a hearth and home, carve out fields for crops and animals and forge a living here.

During its working life, the plough would have been hitched to a patient team of hard working draft horses, and riding it would surely have been a bone shaking experience for the plucky soul who probably purchased it as a "state-of-the-art" farm implement and was overjoyed to own such a contraption. From my perspective, it is still art (if not state-of-the-art), and it is definitely a masterpiece.