“Overheard in the Orchard” is the result of a serendipitous collaboration between an author orchardist and a photographer. Linda Hoffman, owner of Old Frog Pond Farm in Harvard, published her memoir in 2021 and was engaged in a new book—a year-long conversation with her 45-year-old Golden Delicious apple tree. Ellen Harasimowicz, illustrator of six award-winning children’s books, had finished her photo essay on the Willard Farm and was looking for a new project. She spoke with Hoffman, and they liked the idea of combining their projects. Each of them worked in her own medium, and they talked with each other periodically. They worked with a book designer to help them bring everything together and are pleased with the poetic and artistic balance the designer achieved.
The two women talked about their book at the Sept. 29 meeting of the Garden Club of Harvard. Hoffman invited the audience to “Enter the orchard.” She read from individual conversations in the book, and the black and white photos were projected on a screen. Harasimowicz said that because of the way she and Hoffman approached the work, the photos do not exactly “match” the words but rather complement them. Asked later why the photos are in black and white, she said she had started using color to capture observations she made walking around the orchard. But when she read some of Hoffman’s words, she found them so poetical and moving that she did not want the photos to distract from them but rather “be in concert.” She said duotone, which has a lighter tint, suited the conversations better than color.
“The Golden Delicious Tree,” a photo in “Overheard in the Orchard.” (Photo by Ellen Harasimowicz)
‘It chose me’
The first photo was of a sprawling tree that appeared to shimmer with a silver tone because, Harasimowicz said later, Hoffman had just sprayed it with clay, an organic pest preventive. A close-up showed rough bark, with many “scars” where branches had been cut off over the years. A long limb near the base of the tree swooped out in a graceful, extended arm. It was here, Hoffman said, that she sat and listened and spoke to the tree. “I chose it for its amazing lower branch,” Hoffman said. “Or maybe it chose me.” A photo shows her nestled into the crook of the branch with her notebook in hand, like a stenographer, jotting down the words of the tree. “She sits and writes in her book,” the tree observes.
Hoffman explained that she chose the title of each conversation to describe the cyclical nature of what was going on for the tree at that time. The first is “Dormant Whispers,” when the tree is slowing down, preparing for winter. The tree tells her, “My chill time has begun.” It describes how its fruit buds are being protected over the winter. The words throughout the book are lyrical and intimate, but embedded in them is a great deal of factual information. Photo close-ups of a branch show the covering over the buds in winter.
The next conversation is “Pruning” and describes the tree’s horror: “She’s pulling the saw from her sheath.” It gives her clear instructions on how it wants to be pruned and mentions the man who helps her (Denis Wagner). A photo shows Hoffman pruning while perched high up in the tree; another is a close-up of her between two blossoming branches. “Like she is hugging the tree, and it has its arms around her,” said Harasimowicz. The tree notices the orchardist standing back after the pruning: “She says as always, ‘It’s a beautiful tree.’”
“Heart to Heart” is an emotional conversation. The tree is afraid because it has noticed two rows of McIntosh trees have disappeared; it wonders if that will happen to it. “Did you ask those men to cut down those old trees?” it asks, outraged. “They were my kin.” The orchardist is upset for the tree and tries to explain that she had to do it—the Macs got scab disease, and the apples were dropping too early and could not be sold. She wants forgiveness from the tree: “I thought removing those trees was the right thing to do.”
A photo of the orchard on a damp and foggy day causes the tree to worry: “I am concerned my buds can’t open.” The last conversation mentions Ed Barron, who owned the orchard across the street and whom the tree knew. Ed is ill and has been moved to a place where he can be cared for, the orchardist tells it. The tree responds, “My chill time has come again.”
Harasimowicz described some of the other photos that are in the book, like a bird’s nest and a caterpillar. Hoffman said she keeps an eye out for that species of caterpillar because they can denude a young tree. But she said she doesn’t worry about them in older trees because the birds will eventually come and eat them. “It’s a balance,” she said. “I’ve learned from this orchard to have patience, not to hastily react but to wait and see if things change.”
Exhibit at Fivesparks
Fivesparks will have an exhibit, “Overheard in the Orchard,” starting Saturday, Oct. 4, and a reception on Oct. 12 at 3 p.m., where the artists will have a conversation. The exhibit connects to the book, with a display of photos from the book, limited edition prints for sale, and copies of the book. There will be additional art pieces by Hoffman and her daughter Ariel Matisse. The show will be there through Nov. 15, when Hoffman will read from the book.
One of Hoffman’s pieces in the Fivesparks show is a sculpture she did in 1999 called “The Graft.” This was before she moved to the farm and orchard, but she was using agricultural tools. “It’s amazing to me,” she said, “how sometimes life knows what you’re going to do before you do.”
