Farm Animals – Photogeek Blog

As a kid who grew up in Queens and spent most of my life in the city, trips to the country and farms still fill me with excitement. This weekend’s trip to Lancaster, PA, was no exception. When mapping out our way home from a satisfying day, we drove past a group of cows relaxing after a hard day’s work. I shit you, not. The whole crew was sitting together as if they were at a family picnic. We quickly found a place to make a U-Turn to circle back. I excitedly grabbed my camera and pulled myself out of the car. Unlike last week while positioning myself along the Potomac River. I did not step into mud. However, the uneven patch of grass and my general lack of balance caused me to grab the fence as I fell forward. Unfortunately, the cows hadn’t warned me that the fence was electrified and…… zap. I was electrocuted for the first time in my life. Shocking, right. In all the years of jumping fences and trespassing. I’ve never had that happened. And though I survived. I learned a good lesson. Maybe it’s time to return to photographing babies.

After running into an old friend while strolling down Journal Square’s Newark Ave. I was advised to journey further to the landmark cemetery known as Harsimus. Since my days as an adventurous 8 year old. I was always intrigued by cemeteries. If my fading memory can recall. My first excursions from my home base of Jackson Heights into the fabled town of Astoria were through a cemetery know as St. Michaels. Though fear and the anticipation of being wrangled by grave robbers or a satanic cult have since diminished. The feeling that the hills have eyes has not totally diminished. So when I heard about the goats of Harsimus Cemetery. I was happy knowing my suspicions were indeed true.

After a long walk in 84 degree temperatures, I finally came upon Harsimus. And though I did my share of searching. It wasn’t until I asked one of the groundskeepers that I was able to find what I was looking for. As I stood at the top of the hill, all I could see was more cemetery. “A hoax” I thought. One of Big Foot proportions. Finally, a head poked out from one of the monuments. Staring at me with an innocent curiosity. I gathered myself and readied my best possible goat calling skills. Before you knew it, and despite the fact I sounded more like a sheep in goats clothing. I was suddenly welcomed by a community of adorable goats. After a short goat talk I was able to gain their trust and even got them to pose for pictures. I’ve included a few favorites in hopes of getting more people to visit and experience some of the unique treasures that are right at our doorstep.