Worn, weathered wood splintered from lack of paint this century makes up this county’s oldest barn. This wood first smelled as fresh cut pine will do. This old barn took three days and 20 neighbors to build. There lived here a herd of hooves, a hundred hatchlings, a million mice mixed with a ton of hay. Children, convinced that barns were castles.
But Castles fall and dreams fade when fresh cut pine begins to splinter.
It snowed too hard winter after winter, now the sheen is gone and the roof is aching, nearly breaking. The everlasting aroma of hay and horses pressed deeply into the brown boards collides with any nose careless enough to slip into the sagging doors.
This was a hard year. Everything is brown. The corn, weeds, grass, even the hoppers are brown. The old brown barn has long been a fire hazard and a definite danger to residents moving out from town.
Papa cried when they burnt down his barn.