It goes to show that our barns and outbuildings need love, too. The one I posted the other day was old but still used. It still had the magic in it. You could feel it just by looking at it. You could almost hear the voices from long ago and see the animals going in and out. You could imagine the birth and death of livestock and a farmer saying his prayers for their health.
But that’s all gone here. I have watched this barn for a very, very long time. I knew it was on its way out. I knew the magic was leaving. I watched it slowly leave over the years, but still some held on to the very end. It’s not about just physical repairs, although those are important and vital, of course. It’s about the magic of the experiences that build up over the years. It’s about the hopes and dreams and sometimes ruin of those who own the barn. It’s about the gentle trust of the animals that lived there.
|A forgotten thing on its way back home.|
Then one day, suddenly (but not really), the magic left. All of the hopes and dreams and prayers finally gave up. There was no use staying in a place where humans couldn’t quicken them anymore. And then, crash! The whole thing fell just like that. It remains undisturbed. No one pays any attention to it. The weather shifts it a bit now and then, but other than that, it is forgotten, except by me. I will continue to watch it until it is no more.
What happens to forgotten things? The Earth swallows them back up. The snow and ice and wind and rain will tear at this barn, and the shifting Earth will disperse it further and further. The plant life will grow more and more aggressive upon it until it begins to cover it completely. And then bit by bit the Earth will swallow it and it will be gone, back whence it came. It will be a long time until this spot holds magic again.