Moise and Barbara returned from a four-day trip up the St Lawrence River today, I imagined the two were gone, I didn’t see them when I came by.

I was instantly struck by the image of the very colorful Monday laundry framing the beautiful new barn, which will soon be painted and will add yet another color to the mix.

They know how to frame photographs, and the ground of their houses and farms are so neat and symmetrical there is always a beautiful shot to take.

There was some excitement – the pigs had escaped from their pens and were out rooting in a neighbor’s garden. A pig catching party had seen sent out to fetch them and bring them home, where they face a certain future – food for the family.

I couldn’t take a picture because there were too many children in it.

I say there was some excitement but not much.

Everyone was calm and confident, they’d get the pigs back in in a  couple of hours. No shouting, no running.

Just another day at the office. The Amish do not get excited, they leave that to the English.

Barbara was struggling with the heat but was glad to be home. I’ll catch up with Moise tomorrow. He was bringing horses back from his daughter’s new home.

A huge load of concrete was being delivered and stacked in the new barn, this, I suspect, is the foundation for Miller’s new home, and also for the wall behind the new barn.

No grass grows under Moise’s feet.

I’m beginning to see the strong artist streak that flows in Amish blood. They seem to have a genius for offering iconic photographs that I want to take, and most of the time, they can’t because their faces would be too close. I am learning to be creative and fleet-footed myself.

We have come to a good understanding, but I always pass up on photos I could love to take – like the pig chase. There was no way to do it without capturing faces up close.

I call these photos Amish art because that’s what I see it as being. They have an instinct both for color and composition. Their clothes are plain, yet there are all kinds of colors all around them.

Their farm is dramatic – carts, gardens, rows of crops, horses, and today pigs racing all over the place. The Miller farm is a photographer’s dream in a place of people who don’t like to be photographed.

The Amish are neat and well organized, there is no clutter, no junk. The laundry flies on the line like flags on a British yacht, the crops are in a straight line, there is always space in between them.

Outside, there are always fresh pies and cookies cooling outside of the outdoor ovens. The dog never goes near those trays.

I am welcome there now, and I can take most of the photos I want, I’ve learned that not being able to do close-ups has made me more creative and imaginative.

As of dusk, the pigs were still out in the neighbor’s garden, squealing heapily. I saw the girls marching out with authority. The pig’s days were numbered.

This shot above of that laundry flapping and so beautifully and framing the barn, can’t be an accident. Someone had to picture it.

Moise knows where to put things.

A graphic designer couldn’t do better. Amish Art.