Sleepy Hollow Farm, Vermont. The last shot I’ll ever take at this location.
The Shot Breakdown: This is what’s called a stacked image. When you take a photo you choose a focal point, and that will be the sharpest point in your image. Depending on what you have your aperture (f-stop) set to, a certain depth range in front of, and behind the image will also be sharp. Now, with an image like this, where you want things right in front of the lens and something far away to be in focus, one of the methods you can utilize is focus stacking. You snap a few shots with different focal points, bring them to photoshop, load them into a stack and then combine them. This brings much of the image into sharp focus. It can be used artistically to help lead the viewers eyes through the image in a certain path, by choosing what’s going to be in focus. Another use is reducing noise in low light photography, but it’s clear to see why the method was used in this image.
The Story: Sleepy Hollow Farm located in South Woodstock, Vermont is absolutely beautiful. Unfortunately, word got out about that. I’ve been by Sleepy Hollow before, but when I shot this in Fall of 2021 I saw something I had never seen before.
It was absolutely mobbed. Not pictured is the 20+ cars lining the road, and the sea of people along the road also shooting, posing, walking hunting for pictures. Do notice the no trespassing sign on the right. Well, this wont work obviously. With a sly gin I turned around and departed, with plans to get up pre-dawn and come back for golden hour. Surely these people don’t have that kind of resolve.
The next morning I follow through with my plan, I’m up before the sun and out the door, sipping coffee secure in the knowledge that I’ll have the place to myself, or maybe one or two other dedicated souls would be as ambitious as myself.
As golden hour arrives, so do I, and apparently I’m late because once again there’s a sea of photographers, chatting it up over their tripods, swapping stories about shots. I remember distinctly one story. The photographer was discussing an abandoned home in a small town they liked to take pictures of, and apparently it was also a very popular destination much like our lovely farm here. He mentioned that the last time he went to shoot there it was being demolished by the town. He asked someone why, and they said it was to deter photographers from invading the town. He scoffs to us listeners (by choice, or otherwise). He mentions that they should be so lucky to have some kind of draw to their town, because while he is there he is going to buy food, gas, maybe a souvenir, and now they lost his money, and many other people’s money. Now there’s no draw at all, so goodbye forever.
Now, this took up quite a bit of real estate in my brain for a while. As a photographer, and as someone who lives in a small town. How pompous, I thought. People live there. They work there. The town with the bulldozed building has no other tourist attractions, because it’s not a tourist town. Who knows how they make their living, but that’s not how. They’d rather have peace. As I looked around me, and saw the small, winding dirt road taken over by cars (including mine) and this crowd of uninvited guests circling like predators. I was doing the same thing. This wasn’t a bridge in the heart of Woodstock, or a statue in a city square that has parking garages and shuttles. It’s a tiny, twisted dirt road where farmers are trying to work, and people need to commute to their jobs. They live out here for a reason. They want peace. Here we are like a clogged artery trying to snap a banger for the ‘gram bruh.
I packed up my gear and left quickly as the next round of small town criticisms was starting up by the photographer hoard. My photography career has taken me places by being bold. There’s a saying, the more awkward conversations you’re willing to have, the further you’ll go in life. I’ve made myself ask for things, opportunities, and push for things to get a photo someone else wouldn’t get. It has taken me up into planes and into concert venues. I’m proud of that. But I won’t bother the folks at Sleepy Hollow farm again. Roadside attractions are like catnip for photographers. Better to climb a mountain in winter and have the place to yourself.