What is it about barns that people find so captivating? From a photographer’s point of view it could be the fascination with perspective and the surrounding scenery. For me it evokes a nostalgia for things of the past, a quiet life where nature takes precedence and peace reigns. When driving along back roads I always want to stop and take a picture, hoping for that perfect shot that I’ll be able to blow up and hang on an empty wall in my home.
I envision stopping the car and walking through a field of green grass up to two huge doors that slide sideways on rusty wheels, opening to the vast expanse of a dimly-lit interior. Inside I’d find a path down the middle of the barn with horse stalls lining both sides. Peeking my head around the corner of one of the open stalls there would be leftover wisps of hay scattered across the floor, nicks and scrapes gracing the stall’s walls where its occupant had kicked out or pawed for attention or just to be released to go for a ride.
A wooden trough graces one corner where once a fresh flake of green-grass hay lay tilted on its side awaiting its occupants fat lips tugging the dry food into its mouth. I can hear the crunching munch of horse jaws, a sound that’s music to my ears, bringing to mind the quiet of feeding time. Bird tweets echo above me in the rafters as slanted rays of afternoon sunshine reflect thousands of tiny dust motes floating in the air.
Barns symbolize peace for me, a place of escape to a world where electronic gadgets and technical wizardry do not interfere. The scent of nature hovers in the air and the wind sighs through the barn doors. If I could take this feeling with me wherever I go, I’d be happy.