Each day I pass by quite a few barns on my way to work.
One day I had a 'lightbulb moment' and I finally decided to count them.
There are no less than 25 barns…most of which are in varying states of disrepair.
I’m a bit of a barn freak…I pretty much love
all of the barns I see, whether they’re in good shape
or bad. There’s something magical about a barn, about what
could be inside the barn. And the decrepit barns always make
me wonder how they must have looked in years gone by, when
they were new. I think old barns have character.
Here is a sampling of some of the barns I pass by each day.
TONS upon tons the brown-green fragrant hay
O'erbrims the mows beyond the time-warped eaves,
Up to the rafters where the spider weaves,
Though few flies wander his secluded way.
Through a high chink one lonely golden ray,
Wherein the dust is dancing, slants unstirred.
In the dry hush some rustlings light are heard,
Of winter-hidden mice at furtive play.
Far down, the cattle in their shadowed stalls,
Nose-deep in clover fodder's meadowy scent,
Forget the snows that whelm their pasture streams,
The frost that bites the world beyond their walls.
Warm housed, they dream of summer, well content
In day-long contemplation of their dreams.
Roberts, Charles G. D. (1860-1943)
