There is just something about a barn that shouts character and charm for me. Maybe it's the association with horses and sawdust, leather and weathered wood, or hay and grain. A barn is a feast for the senses.
I love living in the country and watching how the seasons stitch the hues of planting, cultivating and harvest together to form nature's own quilt out of reds, blues, yellows, greens.
The colors of the rainbow.
And in and around it all is the barn. My city childhood was often lost in dreams of playing in a barn loft, hiding in the hay, hearing the crunching sounds of a hungry horse meditatively chewing timothy hay below. We have a small barn here at Iron Acres. In the last 17 years it has known the joy of kidding, kittens, hatching peeps, escaped bunny corralling, and endless rounds of storing hay up for the winter and feeding it out until spring.
Our little barn is empty now, but the loft is still a wonderful place to hide...
...and to dream...
(for more pictures of dreamy skies from all over the earth, dream awhile at Sky Watch Friday.)