Can You Fall In Love With a Barn?

Much of the 120 acres here is taken up by the big pasture where the horses graze, and that pasture is pretty much nothing but scrubbly grass. Like that word,"scrubbly"? I should ask Pam what's really out there. There is also a little grave site at the top of one of the hills, and at the edges of the property, there are beautiful dreamy groupings of trees on the national forest land. When the dogs run in and out of the birch and evergreens, it looks like a fairy tale. It is beautiful here, but I can't help but wake up in the morning after a month of taking pictures every day and leave my camera on the table instead of taking it out with me, thinking that I pretty much know what's out there, and there aren't a lot of new pictures to take.

But this place keeps grabbing my by the throat and making me go back to the house for the camera. Today it was so cold out that the water in the troughs was still frozen at noon, even on the sunny side of the barn, so it was time to turn on the heater that keeps the water from freezing, which meant going into the old barn.

Well, once I went in, I felt like I was in a whole new place, and I didn't want to come out. It was a windy day, and the wind was whistling through the gaps in the doors and walls of the barn, and the light from outside was shining in, through those same gaps, as well as the old windows. There were piles and piles of straw, some newer hay, a little shelf of horse gear, and the saddle pictured above. It just reminded me of the kind of place I would have wanted to hide out when I was a kid. The seven year old Heather would pack up a peanut butter and honey sandwich, whatever other snacks were around, maybe some hot cocoa in a thermos, and a stack of horse books, and head out to the barn to hide and read all day. Thirty-five year old Heather would add the camera to that loot.

Maybe I'll do that tomorrow. Good thing we have mousers here!