Barn Memories

There was always life in the barn. It is where we kept the work horses and milked the cows. There were always mice, and sometimes rats. These often attracted a black snake which would send us running.

     Old wooden barns are rapidly disappearing from the countryside. It is sad to watch them wither away. They were the wild amusement park of many a country kid. They were especially fun on a rainy day.

 

      Wooden barns were once a fixture on every farm and served multiple purposes. They were shelter for livestock, provided stalls for milking cows, and were storage areas for a variety of grains. A semi-dark hayloft provided numerous hiding spots, and sometimes a soft place to take a nap.

 

        The old barns were filled with sights, sounds, and earthy aromas to delight young imaginations. There were always hidden nooks and crannies filled with secret passageways. Sunlight filtering through cracks created a delightfully spooky atmosphere. Mysterious rustlings in the darkness were an invitation to the imagination.

 

         There were often surprises such as an abandoned nest of rotten eggs leading to an “egg fight” and the most horrific odor one can imagine. Sometimes there would be a nest of newborn kittens to inspect and name. There were bird nests and the explosion of wings and feathers was always a startling surprise.

 

         There was always life in the barn. It is where we kept the work horses and milked the cows. There were always mice, and sometimes rats. These often attracted a black snake which would send us running.

 

         Old barns were a busy place. There was hay to store in the barn, grain to fill the granaries, and rooms for a variety of livestock. They were a place of life and activity. Many a day was spent in storing, and then feeding hay. Much grain was shoveled into the grain storage areas. Milking was an everyday morning and evening chore.

 

         Driving around the countryside it is still possible to see old wooden barns. Most are in some stage of deterioration. They stand unpainted, slowly succumbing to the elements. It is sad to watch them go, but each one has its own memories which future generations will never enjoy.

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