Why I Love Old Barns

An old barn half hidden in weeds struggles to hold board and soul together. Its brave story catches my imagination. Birds now nest where hay once filled the loft and tiny creatures scurry about below finding tiny morsels of grain left from long ago.

I get out of my car with camera in hand, climb over the broken fence, and pause to take in this amazing slice of history. I step from the warm outside sun through sagging doors into the cool quiet. A sanctuary that’s survived beyond the years of hope and purpose. The now slatted roof and leaning sides takes perseverance to a new level. She no longer holds within her arms warm, lowing animals, wake each morning to the early clang of milk pails, or the soothing words of a farmer as he greets each cow by name—but she is still beautiful and stands with pride.