This is a photograph of a Farmall model H sitting in some weeds in Frisco, Texas. It was taken by reluctant_paladin and uploaded to Flickr on October 17, 2007.
I chose option #1 because I do not have a digital camera, and I do not have any really good pictures to upload. So, I searched for a photograph and decided to comment on it. Searching is really easy - every photograph has certain "tags" which describe the picture and help the search engine to find it. I decided to look for a picture of an old farm tractor, because I like old farm tractors...
Photographs like this really intrigue me. It was easy to find - Flickr has an easy-to-use interface and is really well organized. I simply typed in "farmall" (my favorite kind of tractor - this one was probably made in the mid-40s) and it turned up a whole list of images. To me, the Farmall (especially the H model - an affordable midsize tractor, used primarily to tend farms under 160 acres) is an iconic image of the family farm and represents a bygone era in American farming and culture. This old tractor has been forgotten and is now rusting away, surely replaced by some newer, bigger, more powerful, and more efficient tractor. The same can be said of the family farm; it, too, has been replaced by bigger, more organized, and more efficient "industrial" farms. However, I cannot help but feel that in the transition something intangible has been lost - some part of American culture that can never be regained, because progress only goes in one way. Luckily, thanks to pictures like this and photo-sharing sites like Flickr, there will always be reminders of the past...
In light of how meaningful I found this photograph, I am beginning to think that perhaps I should get a camera of my own, start taking some pictures, and share them with others. If other people found as much meaning in my photographs as I did in this one, it would certainly be a worthwhile effort both for myself and everyone out there on the internet.
What do you think? Am I a hopeless romantic for a bygone era - one in which I never even really lived? Am I a dinosaur? Or is there really something special about the way a small family farm promotes a connection to the land; a connection that an industrial farm - one with millions of dollars of equipment, thousands of acres, teams of scientists, and a truckload of hired hands - will never be able to replicate? More importantly, should I get a camera and become an amateur photographer? And would it be worthwhile for me, personally or professionally, to share these photographs on flickr?
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