I love old barns. When I was a young boy we had an old barn close by that we would ride our bikes to, sneak in and play for hours, oh the adventures we would dream up. We used to climb the hay bales all the way to the ceiling, very dangerous, but kids don't think about danger. If I close my eyes I can still smell the sweet hay and scent of an approaching Fall. Rumor had it (I think us kids started it) that if Old Man Jones caught you in his barn he would shoot you in the buttocks with "both barrels" loaded full of rock salt. As a boy and even now, part of the thrill is wondering, was there an "Old Man Jones" and did he really have a shot gun. To this day we never found out.
I think you can draw a parallel between barns and people, especially us New Englander type. We are very independent, so are barns. You ever see two old barns side by side, very seldom. We like to do our own thing in our own way with some space around us.
I know this will surprise you, but New Englanders are stubborn......and so are old barns. Many old barns should have given up and fallen down a long time ago, nope, no way, no how, giving up is for sissies. Seems like years ago the King of England thought we should have given up, especially when our militia was down to about 300 against the strongest military in the world, guess you know the rest of that story.
Like old people, old barns are full of wonderful memories, the trick is to take a few minutes to slow down and quietly listen. There is also a certain mutual respect we share with our old friend the barn, while getting older is not a lot of fun there is a certain character and dignity in doing it with grace.
I like old barns....
I like old barns....
