A favorite sight from our fishing trip, was this quaint little barn, set back in the middle of no-where-land.
Upon closer inspection, I could see a fishing net in the hay hole/door. A fisherman from the past once loved this barn as much as I do, just seeing it once.
I always did have an irrational devotion to barns. They represent a quickly fading part of the past in our own township. It's really quite sad.
It could be the reason I am so bent on keeping our little red barn ' useful,' even tho it no longer holds farm animals. It does still hold treasures of the past, lawn and garden tools, planters, etc., as well as so many memories of the animals we once kept.
At one time, our little red barn housed cows and their calves, sows and their piglets, many cats and kittens, faithful dogs, pigeons in the loft, as well as chickens in the coop off the barn, hmm, and our daughter's first horse. (That's a story for another time.)
Only the slab of concrete remains of the coop. It now has an adirondack chair and a retired bird house surrounded by lilacs and rhubarb.
The loft is now full of aging lumber, antiques, seed for the hunters food plots, outdoor reindeer and a snowman full of lights, many old windows and doors to be re-purposed 'some day.' But, the pulley that once pulled stacks of loose hay still remain, as well as the heavy worn rope. The floor boards are in fairly good shape, only a few need replacing. The two hay holes where the loose or baled hay was thrown through to feed the cattle in the winter, still remain. One is covered, the other is used to pass stored lumber or lawn furniture through as it's needed.
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall
Old Weathered Barns,
I Love Them All
There will always be a very special place in my heart for my little red barn. It also reminds me of the red barn that still stands at the farm of my youth. Come think of it, there are so many barns dear to my heart, so many places I had grown up. Barns of aunts, uncles, grandparents and great-grandparents. No wonder my love of barns runs so deep.
Have the most fine week, my friends.
Find what makes your soul skip a beat.