Old barns have always fascinated me. What stories do they hold within their ancient boards? There is always the aroma of mustiness in old barns. It could well be a mixture of old hay, the cows that once inhabited it, and other less notable scents. And that mustiness sends one back into a time tunnel of what used to be and all the thoughts of what was once held precious by those that owned them.
I glanced toward some old stalls and wondered how many cows occupied them? How many times did that farmer awake early in the morning, come cold or heat, to milk them? And, how many stacks of hay were piled nearly to the roof for feed? Was that side room used as some sort of den for the farmer to fix things? How many tools did he have upon its walls?
I also wonder how many purposes were meant for those old structures? And, how many people did it take to raise that barn in is infancy? There are far too many of these old barns standing fallow in Mason County, Michigan, these days. But each is full of stories upon stories coming from those that owned and worked them.
My father’s barn was the central hub of his farm. Did any of our readers have barns within their family and, if so, tell us about them by way of a comment.