A Big Black Dog To Bite Your Behind

…if they ever find out you’re not one of their kind.”
Or so go the lyrics of the tune “Friday Night at the Drive In Bingo” by Jens Lekmen. I heard the song on a compilation CD given to me by Jim Lindsay, a writer (author of the novel Brutal Music, available through Amazon .com) and an old friend from Syracuse who now lives in Boston. I depend on his musical knowledge to keep me up to date with what’s hip.

When you are driving around out looking for things to paint pictures of, you can be regarded suspiciously by the people who may end up as subjects in your next masterpiece. (See the older post “Nearly Night In Titusville” on this very blog) Some may take notice of you, suspecting potential criminal activity, but some perceive you as an even worse threat: The person with the camera and notebook is really a municipal codes enforcer or tax assessor, gathering evidence that will inevitably result in the property owner having to spend more cash.

As a remedy for this intrusion, some home and property owners keep a big barking dog on hand to alert them of the alleged perpetrator/tax assessor (what’s the difference, really?) and keep the visitor at bay and off the property. Gathering reference for photos, I’ve found myself being barked at by both man and beast, but sometimes I welcome the dogs alerting the homeowner to my presence. It gives me an opportunity to meet the owner, explain my purpose and hopefully get some information and reference images that aren’t just blurry pictures of a big dog running towards me from a house.

This was the opportunity a few weeks ago when I stopped on a sunny afternoon to take some photos of an absolutely beautiful farm. I kept my distance and remained on the road that ran along the front of the property, and did not see a soul around. It was a sunny spring afternoon with a sky full cumulus clouds against a bright blue sky, and I really wanted to get better pictures of the barn and buildings further up the hill, but the place appeared deserted…

Gee, it IS a nice view from up here...



I walked back and forth taking more pix, hoping someone would come to the front door of the farmhouse and inquire as to what I was doing. I suppose I could have just knocked on the door, but the lyrics from the song kept playing in my head…
“I want the people in the country to be open and kind
but most times I've met those with a narrow mind
with a big black dog to bite your behind
if they ever find out you're not one of their kind”
...sure enough, a large black Labrador retriever behind the farm house noticed me on the road, and came barking and running towards me, raising quite a racket; eventually the owner came outside to investigate what exactly his dog was barking at.

Just the break I was waiting for.

Fortunately, the owner of this farm turned out to be quite the opposite of the song lyrics. A very gracious, older, white-haired gentleman named Mr. Tony Zega (“Zega. It’s a Greek name”, he explained to me) was the dog’s owner, and he told me he had lived on this farm since 1939. I explained to him that I was an artist and I hoped to get some pictures of his place for a painting. His reaction was “Oh, yeah, artists are always coming around here painting this place. Walk up the driveway to the barn, turn right and go halfway up the field, that’s the best spot to paint from”. His reaction to my explanation was so casual, it was actually rather amusing. I thought if I followed his directions that afternoon and ventured up to the spot he pointed out, I might find a couple dozen other artists with French easels all busily painting away, all painting the same subject.

Mr. Zega told me over the years he had lived there, his farm had been painted hundreds of times by Bucks County artists, with several notable names among those he listed. I could see why: it was a classic example of a Bucks County Farm, with a field stone and white-washed stucco farmhouse, a small springhouse, and a beautiful collection of deep red barns and outbuildings situated on a grassy rise up behind the house. The only problem is, the Prettiest Farm in Bucks County, PA isn’t in Bucks County; it’s in Hunterdon County, State of New Jersey. It’s located just above Stockton on Raven Rock Road, close to where Raven Rock Road meets Federal Twist Road. I initially stopped to take a photo of an old iron truss bridge on Raven Rock when I noticed the Zega farm on the other side of the creek.

Fortunately, my truck us only a little over 6 foot tall...

According to a metal placard mounted on the bridge, it had been constructed in 1889 and bore the name of it’s manufacturer, the Lambertville Iron Works. It seemed to be holding up quite well for a structure erected almost 125 years ago, when the heaviest loads it bore was a wagon full of hay bales pulled by a team of horses. Mr. Zega did tell me the bridge originally had wooden planks for decking, and during the 1970s it was replaced with a macadam road bed. He did not mention how many times artists may have used the bridge as a subject matter for a painting, but I imagine with such a picturesque farm right next to it, more artists have simply used the bridge as a backdrop, or as a way to cross over the creek and get to the Zega property.

Mr. Zega mentioned to me he didn’t really care if artists came and painted his farm and buildings, but it would be nice if one of them would give him a picture once in a while.

I walked up to the spot Mr. Zega had suggested, and did not see any other artists, nor any one else, for that matter. His black Lab walked along with me and investigated the tall grass and surrounding trees for any thing unusual. I guess artists visiting isn’t that unusual on the Zega Farm; if I can, I think I will try to paint two pictures of this property, and keep one for the exhibition.-Posted by Rich