Moving on Forever: The Orchards of Oakdale

Knowing the rural involves first coming to terms with the noteworthy symbols that make up its circulated spectacle. In popular culture, two of these symbols are the orchard and the pasture, but coming to understand what they might signify and how they differ, not to mention what it feels like to be around and describe them shows how limited such portrayals have so far been.

The orchards, pastures and fields that surround Oakdale are a standing testament both to its profound faith as well as its indefatigable working spirit. These plots are to be found in patchworks in every possible direction, on the outskirts and even very nearby town.

Produce and livestock of all kinds inhabit these places, giving them a checkered, quilted appearance from above. Almond, walnuts, grapes, and a variety of other fruits and vegetables sustain this place (and its agri-coffers), while the warmer weather encourages the cultivation of heat-tolerant plants. Numerous cattle ranches can be founded patterned alongside endless rows of budding or aged and matured trees, the likes of which mirror and emulate the endless of mosaics of Escher. But I think these rows - their neat construction and seeming endlessness - are responsible in part for the enduring Christian sentiments that appear to buoy and anchor this place (and are buoyed and anchored by it).

By this, I mean to say that apparently infinite stretches of road, electricity relay towers, pasture and crop formations imply a kind of eternity in presence and aesthetic that cannot help but utter poems of and prayers from those that live on and around the land (or those that witness it themselves). But this is not to establish cause: just to muse on an odd parallel in their prevailing values.

These patches can be viewed easily enough as long one has a car or a bike (even a tractor); just don't expect to get anywhere quickly, as a parked yellow bus or monstrous trailer might occlude your scenic progress.

 Importantly, orchards and pastures exhibit crucial differences aesthetically and functionally. Orchards are orderly, defined, rigorously planned and plotted rows and columns of trees that cover massive expanses of otherwise uninhabited dirt. Pastures, however, are open fields, the kind for cows or horses to graze on: the sort that unfold to provide sublime views of the world beyond.

Every now and again however, there are stark and beautiful marriages of these distinct geographical features of rurality. One example is pictured here, and special scenes like this one uniquely emerge with the early days (or pre-days) of Spring, heralding its arrival and warning all of its impending showers. The green patches that are found lining and dividing trees are soft and sparse but often appear just as ordered as the trees themselves, instigating us to wonder if they are just young trees aspiring to be like their much older brethren.

Originally, in fact, and as dated photos suggest, Oakdale was the Almond Capital of the World, and while such a moniker is nothing to scoff at, city promoters endeavored for more, finally settling on a much more grandiose (and difficult to substantiate) "Cowboy Capital of the World," which it defended in a brief but noteworthy standoff with a Texas town for the title (decided by and over rodeo ticket sales).

Oakdale would be nothing but for Orchards and Pastures, and these features nourish many local families through the production of countless items of produce and the generation of milk; but even more notably, they provide the means by which we are able to show ourselves in regional, national and international markets. The Central Valley's rural productive apparatus sustains a significant portion of the California economy to say nothing of how Oakdale plays a partial but significant role in this commerce, the way in which these features of land are utilized and deployed, aside completely from their aesthetic presentation and potential.