There is a certain unique beauty in old barns.
Whether still in use, or dilapadated and falling down, the colors of the weathered wood, the lines and angles, have always fascinated me. Old barns - in their own peculiar way, all have a story to tell.
Their silos - that held the fruits of so many, many wheat harvests. They also provided a place where Grandpa could rest for a few minutes in the shade on a hot summer's day after several grueling hours on his tractor in the fields nearby.
Their cattle chutes and lean-to's - providing guidance and protective shelter to numerous cattle, mules, and - on my Grandpa's farm - mama pigs and their new little litters of baby pigs - so precious! One of my earliest memories of our farm is of going with my Mom and Uncle Bertus into the barn, and getting to pet a brand-new little white baby piglet - oh how he squealed!
And oh how much I enjoyed that!
And oh how much I enjoyed that!
Yes, if you look just beyond the surface of things - you can often "see" a beautiful story, if you have the eyes to perceive it!
