An Ode To Henry
black mamba
Registered Users Posts: 8,321 Major grins
Henry was the name I called the old barn in this image. My first mountain house was about 1 mile further into the valley then this place that Henry called home. The old man that owned this " spread " was a very pleasant sort. Since I passed this place countless times over the years, I came to be friends with him and I would stop and chat with him when I could. He always made sure my wood bin was full when I was up there in the Winter. When I first met Henry, he was a healthy young stud proudly serving the needs of the old man and his family. The ensuing years, though, were hard on him. Old barns like Henry were never a paragon of construction excellence. An onslaught of years of heavy snow and damaging ice storms brought Henry to his knees. The last I heard, the old man let Henry fall to the wood scavengers that stalk the mountains looking for victims.
Comments
An apropos eulogy befitting a once distinguished structure.
El Gato
www.globaltrekk-photos.com
You know, I guess because I spend so much time dealing with these subjects, I truly feel sadness when any one of my favorites bites the dust. Maybe it's just the passing of an era that pains me.
Sweet and Wonderful story Tom! Love it! You write very well! Put a book out on barns!! Images and stories!
Many thanks, Taz, for your continued support and encouragement.