My Poor Little Barn is Dead

I am so sad.

My little barn down in the canyon wasn't being used for anything, and was old and leaky, but oh-so-sweet.

I have loved taking photos of her (why do I think of her as a "her"?) sitting there in the glade looking all rustic and full of mystery.

I have picked blackberries on warm sunny days with my back to hers.

I always imagined that someday she would be a nice little picnic spot for the kids and I, or that she would serve some other romantic, creative, imaginative purpose. Or even that she would house a sheep or two.

But she simply could not withstand one more winter, and quietly succumbed one day to the weight of a December snow.

It will be a bit of work, but we will gather her boards and nails, her rusty hinges, and maybe even some of the moss from her roof. We will save her skeletal remains, and put them to use. Because we are country folk, and that is what we do.

And someday, if her parts are used to make something really nifty, I'll be sure to share it here with you, my faithful readers.

In the meantime, I am still feeling sad. Sniff...