Pickens

If you're driving southeast on Hwy. 65, you dive deep into the Arkansas Delta. You pass miles of farms and fields, which are empty and fallow this time of the year. The road passes over several rivers and creeks, which usually have cypress trees growing up in the still waters. The flat lands are occasionally punctuated by silos, or a rusting old and disused cotton gins.





Most of the people speeding down Hwy. 65 probably completely miss the small community of Pickens. This was, at one time, one of the largest cotton plantations in the state. It opened in the 1880s, and eventually contained over 20,000 acres of farmland. Here you can find an old plantation house (which was built in the 1940s, replacing one that had been built in the 1880s). And also the old cotton gin, which sits along a busy set of train tracks.





I drove through the fields around Pickens, eventually making it to the edge of Dumas. I stopped at this old building, which sat by and was nicely reflected in this huge puddle.



And next to it was a spot where a house must have once stood - it's long gone except for this fireplace and chimney.



And from there I headed back towards Pickens. Besides the old house and the cotton gin, there is also an old building that once housed a mercantile store and the commissary. It was quiet when I drove by, but the building is now home to a restaurant serving southern cooking that is so good that it's said that diners from as far as Pine Bluff and Little Rock make the drive to eat here.

Just down the road, I stopped to get a shot of these new silos sitting behind an old and weathered farm building.



The 20,000 acres of the Pickens Plantation were harvested by tenant farmers and sharecroppers. They tilled the lands with mules, and families lived on the land in sharecropper cabins. It's hard to know how many people once lived here, but in the late 1940s there were over 400 houses on the plantation grounds.

But in the 1950s, mechanized farming was introduced to the Delta. Now a tractor could do the work of the sharecroppers, and all those homes were soon left empty as people went off to find jobs elsewhere. Of those 400 homes that once stood here, almost all of them are gone. Only one remains.



Along a lonely and quiet dirt road sits one last sharecroppers house. The wood is worn and cracked, and the metal roof is peeling off and full of holes. 







The sun was setting, and I set up the camera on the tripod. I wanted to get some star trails over the old house, so I waited by the camera as it got dark. But I wasn't alone out there. In the breeze, there was the unforgettable aroma of a skunk. I wasn't sure where it was coming from exactly, and I nervously glanced over at the old house. Could it be the new home of a skunk - one who was not happy about some rude paparazzi getting pictures of its den? At one point I heard something rustling around in the tall grass by the house. I nervously shined the flashlight on it, only to see an armadillo walking around. Thankful I wasn't about to get sprayed by a skunk, I turned off the light and the little armadillo went about its business.

Eventually it was dark enough to start taking pictures for the star trails. The camera sat out there for a little bit over two hours, continually taking photographs of the sharecroppers house and sky above. When I got home later I combined all the shots together, and got this result:

Judsonia

There are two old bridges that cross the Little Red River in Judsonia. One is an old train bridge, which was built in 1912 by the St. Louis, Iron Mountain & Southern Railroad.



The other is an old vehicle bridge, built in 1924.



And both are still in use. As I was out there for nearly two hours while the camera was taking enough pictures for these star trails, the quiet night was punctuated by the doleful wail of a train whistle, followed by the thunderous avalanche of sound as a train crossed over the creaky metal bridge. That was joined by the bang and clatter of the occasional car driving over the weathered wooden beams of the bridge, the sound echoing across the river.

Dispatch From The Edge Of The Universe

It was already dark by the time I arrived at this old rice dryer in the Arkansas Delta. I tried to set up the camera in the dark, in the hopes of not attracting the attention of any of the millions of mosquitoes, gnats and other assorted creepy crawlies out there. But it was all for naught, as they all descended as soon as I left the safety of the car. I drenched myself with bug spray, which helped for a bit. The bugs hovered about an inch or two from my face, searching for any chinks in the bug spray armor.

It took me awhile to find the right spot to set up the camera and to get everything in focus. The mosquitoes were beginning to renew their attack so I sprayed myself with bug spray again, and then the air around me. I felt like a middle-school kid trying to put on cologne before his first dance, but it did the trick. The bugs seemed to drift away and avoid me (much like the girls at those middle school dances). I set the camera to start taking pictures, which it would continuously do for the next two hours. I then used the flashlight to shine on the old rice dryer, trying to illuminate it for the pictures. The beam of light from the flashlight did hit the old dryer, but it also caught the multitude of bugs hanging in the air. In the light, they looked like snowflakes in a blizzard.

There wasn't anyone else around, except for a few cars that would drive along the nearby road. But there was some sort of critter or creature that lurked in the old rice dryer. I could hear it scampering about in the night. I retreated back to the car, where I sat for two hours while the camera clicked away and took about 225 pictures. When it was time, I walked out amongst the bugs and gathered the camera and tripod and then headed home.

This is the final result. There is a little bit of light pollution (from the Stuttgart metroplex). And also a bright line of orange, which looks like a rocket taking off but it is actually the moon rising over the horizon.

Scott

The small town of Scott sits just east of Little Rock, on the edge of the Delta. But despite it sitting so close to the state's largest city, it still feels like it belongs in the past. There are many old and historic buildings here, including several old farm buildings. Like this old silo that was bathed in golden light from the setting sun, reflected in a rain puddle.



There is also a nice collection of older buildings all gathered together here at the Scott Plantation Settlement. The settlement started in the 1990s, when numerous old buildings from the surrounding area were moved and placed here to form an outdoor museum. The settlement includes a plantation "big house," a dogtrot house, a blacksmith shop, a smoke house, a cotton pen, a corn crib, a church, a school, a tenant house, and even an outhouse (not sure if it's functional or not). Also included here is the old Scott train station, which was built in 1911. It was built for the St. Louis Southwestern Railway Company as part of the Cotton Belt Route, and served passengers until 1929. After that the station briefly served passengers again in the 1970s when it was used for a tourist excursion train. The station was moved here from its original location, and now it's the visitor center for the museum.

It is a neat old building, and also a good spot for an attempt at a star trail photograph. So I set up the tripod and the camera, and started taking pictures after it got dark. Scott was an ideal place to do star trails, there isn't that much light pollution. And there was cell phone service, so I was able to watch the FC Dallas season opener on my phone while the camera was taking a bunch of pictures (and good news, FCD beat Houston 2-1).

And here is the final result. This is the combination of over 200 pictures, taken over the course of two hours:

An Old Church In Keo

The small towns of Keo and Scott are just a short drive from Little Rock, but they still feel like they belong in another era. Both towns are home to numerous old agricultural buildings, and lots of old homes and churches. I drove through Keo last week, and stopped at this old cotton gin. It was built in the 1940s, and was in use until the 1970s.



I was there to visit an old church that sits just to the south of Keo. My plan was to get out there before sunset, and to get the camera set up in time to start some star trail pictures. This would be my second attempt at star trails here. I tried last summer, but the lens fogged up and ruined almost all of the shots. I hoped this time would have better luck...

I arrived at the old church, which sits along a dirt road. Across the street is a cemetery, which contains many old graves. I wish I knew the history of the church, like when it was built and when it was abandoned. It does have a very sad feeling to it, especially since it not in the best of shape and probably won't be standing for much longer.



The front door was open, so I went inside. The former sanctuary of the church looked rough. A large hole had formed in the roof, along with one on the floor. Fallen ceiling tiles littered the floor, next to a bright green carpet that once ran between the pews.



The back room of the church was in worse shape. Most of the roof was gone, and the floor was covered with a carpet of fallen leaves.



And the view looking out the back window of the church:



And one more view of the front of the church, taken across the road at the old cemetery. I did want to make another star trail attempt here in the winter, when the brush in front of the church was bare and wouldn't cover as much of the building. And also, when there wouldn't be any mosquitoes out.



I set up the camera on the tripod, found the composition that I wanted. I put a hard-warmer inside a sock, and wrapped it around the lens (which is a crude, but effective way to prevent the lens from fogging up). And when it was dark enough I put the camera into manual mode and set the right exposure time, ISO, and aperture. Everything was going great until I tried to use the remote shutter release. It was plugged in, but it wasn't communicating with the camera. I pressed the button in vain, but it wasn't working at all. It is a vital piece of equipment, and without it I was out of luck.

After saying a few choice words (that were probably inappropriate to say in front of a church, sorry!), I had to sadly pack everything up. With the shutter release not working, my second attempt at star trail pictures here was a bust.

The next day I made an emergency run to Bedfords, which luckily had a shutter release for sale that fit my camera. So that night I headed back out to Keo to make attempt number three. Luckily I remembered to charge the batteries, pack the memory card, and bring the camera and new shutter release. I set up the camera, and got a little creeped out when I heard something emerge from under the old church and move around in the brush nearby. I was afraid it might have been a skunk. But I shined the flashlight on it, and it was just a little armadillo.

And amazingly, the third time was a charm! So here the star trails over the old church, taken over the course of about two and a half hours:

Starry Night

In a few months I'm going to be able to visit a National Park out West that is known for having some of the darkest skies in the country, so I've been wanting to get out and do some night photography as a little practice run. I was able to get out the other day and visit an old abandoned church near Scott, and tried to get some star trails. This attempt was much better than my last try. I remembered to bring the camera, the battery, the tripod and the shutter release. And luckily, this time I managed to succeed in not having the lens fog up and ruin most of the shots!

I set up the camera, which was set to take a :30 second exposure continuously for about two hours. It was quiet out by the old church, except for a few large combines in the field nearby that were working deep into the night. The combines were kicking up a ton of dust. At one point I turned on the flashlight, and the falling dust in the beam of light was so thick it looked like falling snow. But here is the final product, which is a combination of all of those :30 second shots from that night...



Before I left, I moved the camera over to get another angle of the church and the blanket of stars shining above:

Silos: A Star Wars Story

On a cold but clear night recently, I headed out to Scott to make another attempt at star trail photography. It's one of my favorite things to do, since it reminds me a bit of film photography and working in a darkroom. To capture the star trails moving across the sky requires the camera taking continuous photos for a few hours. You never know how it will turn out until you start combining all those pictures together in post (like watching a print start to form in the developer tray in the darkroom). It's fun, and doesn't require any smelly darkroom chemicals.

This shot was taken by a row of metal silos near Scott, looking north. I was out there for two hours taking pictures, but I ended up making a mistake and wasn't able to use all of those pictures (the lens fogged up in the cold weather). But here is the end result, with the stars slowly streaking across the sky above Scott...

Car lights, star bright...

From Morrilton I headed just a bit further west to a small bridge that crosses over Interstate 40. The bridge was apparently put in place so that a farmer could access his farmland, which meant that it would be an ideal spot for pictures since it's hardly ever used.



It was clear skies, which was perfect for star trail photos. But it was a little cold - the temperature would drop to about freezing, which is slightly unpleasant when you're just sitting in your car while the camera takes pictures for a few hours (don't worry about me, I survived). I would find out later that it wasn't the most ideal spot, bright lights on the cars and trucks caused some lens flare which I had to clumsily try to fix in Photoshop afterwards (without messing up the movement of the stars in the shots). Also trucks would cause the bridge to shake, which in turn shook the camera and made for a few blurry images. But this is the resulting image - it's made from 220 images stacked together, which creates the star trails. However, the streaks of light on the freeway at the bottom are from just a few minutes worth of images (after two hours the freeway looked a wee bit overexposed).