Day 81 – Old Barn


Old Barn

There’s an old barn
not far from our house
that’s nearing the end of its days.
Its boards are scoured and scored
its roof sags
and there are yawning holes in its sides.

When it was raised
the neat lines of its frame
stood firm against the sky
and it was clad in clean young boards and paint.

Once workmen, with their laughter, came storing hay,
children played in its loft
and young people experimented there with love.

Once cows and horses sheltered between its walls,
and gave birth there to their young,
mice scurried along its beams,
swallows and owls nested under its eaves
and cats came to prowl and prey.

Now the barn is an empty husk
and the fields from which it gathered its hay
have reverted to scraggly woods and scrub.

-Richard Greene

Well, it looks like this murky weather is hear to stay. I’m planning an escape but my calendar doesn’t clear up until late next week. Still, it looks like they will be having nice weather outside the valley which will continue to be plagued by fog. And I have some new poetry books coming so lots to look forward to. This old barn was from yesterday’s excursion. I discovered it on a backroad not far from my house last winter. I often turn to barns when there are no flowers or birds or leaves to photograph. This one took a few trips through software to give it a more grungy, painterly look. And to add some interest to the flat white sky.

Day 43 – Rescue Barn



Weathered and worn
But oh so proudly
The old barn preened in the summer
Mid-day sun

He had seen her earlier,
Noticed her shape, angles
On the drive to his desk and cube

But now she shown
The aged wood, elephant skin
Or maybe the skin of a Burmese elder
Lit at the edge of the cut field

Tawny, creosote, browns in varied hues
Tingled his fancy, his synapses
Starkness of the vertical and horizontal lines
Breaking the field and forests
Softer edges

Ready for a picture or two
To catch the eye, the imagination
Of the traveler of the byway
Proud in its skin
In the light

 – Raymond A. Foss

One of the many awesome places we visited in Vermont was a farm where they rescue, among other things, old barns. This was just one of the many very cool barns on the property. I am almost done editing images from New England so I felt like since that is where most of my energy went today it was appropriate to dip into those files for today’s post. I reviewed a number of poems about old barns but most of them seemed so negative. I liked this one because it spoke of the majesty of the old barn rather than decadence as I hope my photo does too.

Day 31 – Study in Red


The Red Wheelbarrow

so much depends

a red wheel

glazed with rain

beside the white

-William Carlos Williams

I feel like I have been neglecting my digital artistry and didn’t feel too inspired to do straight photography today. So, I found this image while working with photos from Portland, Maine that cried out to be even redder and grungier than it was. The poem is not a perfect fit but I think it is better than my image and let’s just say we are celebrating one of the awesome colors of autumn today.

Day 28 – Barn


Let Evening Come

Let the light of late afternoon 
shine through chinks in the barn, moving   
up the bales as the sun moves down. 
Let the cricket take up chafing   
as a woman takes up her needles   
and her yarn. Let evening come. 
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned   
in long grass. Let the stars appear 
and the moon disclose her silver horn. 
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.   
Let the wind die down. Let the shed   
go black inside. Let evening come. 
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop   
in the oats, to air in the lung   
let evening come. 
Let it come, as it will, and don’t   
be afraid. God does not leave us   
comfortless, so let evening come. 


-Jane Kenyon


Normally, I go out and collect photos and then try to find a poem to fit the one I choose. This afternoon I had the poem in mind and thought of the barn down the street. I wasn’t too happy with the sky so I blended in one also taken this evening but from a different angle.  Then a few textures and now it kind a fits what I had envisioned though still not quite as poignant and image as Jane creates with her words.

Day 22 – Weathervane


“You who travel with the wind, what weather vane shall direct your course?”

-Khalil Gibran, The Prophet

This is probably not the best image I made today but my New England adventure is winding down and one of the things I have enjoyed photographing is weather vanes. This one has some character and some fall color so I thought it would be a good one to share.

Day 21 – Church Steeple



Twisting roads through green speckled hills
Red barns that dot a summer long gone
Skiers seeking perennial winter thrills
In woodlands deep and silently strong

From here to Newhart and Frost they go
To a spirit of Yankee grace and solitude
Where people in tone pleasantly speak
And show God their eternal gratitude

It is a long road that I’ve often taken
When my mind must gain peace from want
And leave my troubles behind forsaken
As I cross that brook into green Vermont 

-C.A. Morrow

Today we drove south from Burlington to the small town of Grafton via route 100. I vowed to come back to Vermont on my own to photograph the barns and the covered bridges and the church steeples. Maybe I will start spending my summers in Vermont.

Day 20 – Round Barn


Autumn dream of a Country Road

Autumn’s dream of a country road
Where houses are few and moving slowed.
Leaves are turning gold_ red_ burgundy.
Inside a warm home apples are candy.
In a barn or cellar cold winter foods quickly stowed
Against winter’s coming and inches snowed.
Autumn dreams of snuggling nights when windy
Breeze carries tune;close by snacks_ hot chocolate handy.

                          -Sara Kendrick

This round red barn is just one of the many buildings preserved at the Shelburne Museum. Another good reason to return to Vermont. All manner of art, folk art, crafts, quilts, and yes, buildings were collected by an heiress in the early 20th century and are now available for viewing at this 45 acre museum.

Day 11 – Bright Lights Big City


Bright lights
Big City
She’s wearing hope around her neck tonight
In golden letters on a string
To make up for the darkness
To make up for the void within

Bright lights 
Big City
This girl could always sing you the blues
This girl is always passing through

Bright lights 
Big City
Don’t stay up
Don’t go waiting for her

Bright lights
Big City
This girl 
She’s always going somewhere

Bright lights
Big City
And when she goes away
She’s leaving you here

– Natascha Kracheel

Not exactly an autumn theme but it was this or the airplanes on the tarmac at SFO and I like this so much better. And this is my life on this day. And I love the poem, just a little edgy and something I can relate to. I love that I live in a small town where life is quiet and peaceful but I do like having a big city experience now and then. More often than I do now really…but I’m working on that. So, I am really stoked that I have two days to explore Boston on my own and one more with the tour group. This scene was about a block from my hotel. I had this vision that when I arrived at 8 pm on a Saturday everything would be dead and dark. So wrong, vibrant neighborhood, people everywhere. I even had trouble finding a restaurant where I didn’t have to wait for an hour to get some food.