And it saddens me to realize that it won't be too many years before they are gone from our country landscapes, finally surrendering to years of scorching sun, wicked winds, ravaging rains, and the natural aging that eventually deteriorates the peeled-paint wooden planks.
Relics of the way farming used to be, old barns stand tall and proud decades after they've outlived their usefulness.
Oh sure, farmers always need barns to store equipment and shelter livestock. But the big ugly metal structures they build now to serve those same purposes have nowhere near the character and beauty of the wooden barns of old.
In its heyday, I can only imagine that this barn was the hub of activity from sunrise to sunset. The busy farmhouse that surely set nearby is long-gone, leaving the stubborn barn alone beneath the trees. But there was a time when children knew every nook and corner of this barn, where pails full of fresh frothy milk were overturned by impatient cows, the familiar sounds of horses snorting and chickens clucking filling the silence.
And the early morning or late day rays of the sun streaked through windows and highlighted the dance of dust mites between the shadows.
Who has every played in an old barn that could ever forget the smells...a sweet mixture of hay and manure and old wood? My mind smiles just remembering...
It's a childhood delight that is slowly dying with those same children who have somehow become just as worn and weathered and rustic and precious as those beautiful...