BARNS

Over the past year, since I have all the time in the world to be alone with the thoughts inside my brain while we travel the roads of America and Canada, I've tried to figure out what it is about barns that fascinates me. We have spent quite a few days this past week driving through Minnesota and Wisconsin and I've had the opportunity to see many different barns.

I can't stop taking pictures of them or imaging the work that went on inside, or the livestock that resides there. I guess it could go back to my childhood. My Grandparents and Aunts and Uncles on my Mother's side all owned ranches which of course had barns. They seemed to me to be so dark and mysterious.

Sundays were always spent playing in and around them. I remember my cousins and I playing in the barn at my Grandfather's ranch and finding the salt licks for the cows. We would take one and crawl up on the bales of hay and lick away never giving it a second thought about the cow that had enjoyed it before us. My Uncle's barn, filled with farm equipment, hay, and trinkets that kept us occupied until my Aunt called us in for Sunday dinner.

I guess my love of barns is deep rooted within my childhood memories and my Uncle who would let me sit almost on his lap and help steer the Rambler station wagon down the country roads. I realize now that my steering abilities then were in desperate need of some work, but the thrill is still there when I think back to those days long gone.

I suppose there are far worse things I could be fascinated by, so I'll keep taking my photos of barns, enjoying my time in Minnesota and Wisconsin, and reliving some of the best childhood memories anyone could wish to have.