Whenever somebody tells me stories, recalling times long gone, there is always a grain field in the picture. I hear how they used to dress up all the hills that there was not space even to drop a pin. So, I started looking for somebody who still works the field to cover for their own household needs, but, seemingly, nobody does this anymore. They tell me that village people don’t work the fields anymore because there are no mills, and you can buy bread from the store. And animal feed, too. Still, I was hoping that I could find somebody who still grows grains.
One day last summer, I met a man who I used to know, but hadn’t meet for a while. Amidst our small talk, he told me that he was still growing wheat and would still use horses to plough the field this year. I almost couldn’t believe my ears… Then, on day of November, he called me to tell me he was about to plough the field. It was a bad-weather day. Rain was pouring in Brasov and a thick fog was lingered over the city, but I rushed to get to him.
I could start complaining about how that was one the most difficult photo shoots I had ever done. But I know I wouldn’t have any right to do so. That old man, with his family and his horses worked much harder than I did… I saw them getting more and more tired with every furrow. And the rain never stopped. The next day, on much better weather, the wife sowed, and the man mulched the field.
I consider myself fortunate to have witnessed this event, which I thought long gone. And I’m thinking about all these wonders that this country still has and only make me love it even more.
