I seem attracted to rural scenes and, in particular, old barns. They catch my eye whenever I am driving about in search of photo opportunities–or, for that matter, just when I am driving about. Perhaps it is because I often imagine myself living on a working farm. Hard work that it is, I know I would enjoy the process of growing produce and caretaking farm animals (although, I must say, I would raise dairy cows, not slaughter cows for beef. I love a good steak…but I couldn’t send the cows off to their final destination).
In any event, we are fortunate enough to have a small property on which sits a barn and another small, two story outbuilding. I’ve been researching what we can do on our two acres, to make our home a sustainable property–one which we can grow enough food for ourselves with the purchase of minimal groceries. We are experimenting with a larger garden this year and have planted several semi-dwarf fruit trees. I am entertaining the thought of a few goats for milk and cheese, as well as a few chickens for eggs.
This particular barn caught my eye first because of the lighting. The sun was stretching itself out one last time before it set, almost reaching out its final rays like a paint brush stroking across the property. And then the barn itself. Who lived here? What did they farm? What is in the barn now–empty, or used for storage? And why is the window on the top, right level covered with a star shape? What was the farmer warding off?
I imagine this was a beautiful, working farm some time in the not so distant past. As much as I enjoy the privileges of 2009, there is a part of me that yearns for the peace and stillness of another time, I suppose. That is the nice thing about an imagination–its still there, that peace and stillness, if you just close your eyes and dream it for a moment.
Have a great rest of the weekend.