The skies were heavy this morning when I awoke from a good night’s sleep. I knew the forecast was for showers and thunderstorms, but I took a bit of time for tea and a bagel. Alas, by the time I had finished, the rain was beginning to fall.
As I made my way to the barn to fill up grain buckets, the sound of the rain pinging on the barn roof greeted me and the thunder rolled in the distance. There is something quite nostalgic and comforting about the sound of rain on a tin roof. It evokes images of simpler times from the past.
Rain on a tin roof brings forth images of cows and horses contentedly munching hay and grain in roomy stalls. It evokes the smells of dusty haylofts filled with freshly cut hay where children would play, cats would pounce on unsuspecting mice, and chickens would hide clutches of eggs to set and hatch. It recaptures a time when the family worked together, played together, and stayed together.
Our barn is a work in progress – it houses animals and hay in the winter, equipment in the spring, summer, and fall. Our barn will be ever evolving as our farm grows and changes – but it is my hope that our barn will evoke fond memories for our daughter someday when we are gone.
The sodden landscape is now obscured by thick fog and the thunder continues to echo around the farm. The rain is heavier now, creating a loud cacophony on the barn roof. The animals are all tucked in, dry and comfortable in their shelters and I have another blog post ruminating in the back of mind.
You see, my father-in-law has taught me that a barn is a living thing….