The Barn in the Evening.

After a quick evening rain shower our barn glows in the rutilant light like a drive-up movie screen. Our barn was built by Marvin, Maret's grandfather, and Duane Roeder, the farmer whom we bought this place from. There is another barn identical to it a mile and a half away on Marvin and Mildred's old place. 

On a bright hot day, when you walk inside the barn, it is like walking into a box full of night. It is black and quiet and cool; there are even constellations of stars where the summer suns streams in through nail holes in the weathered siding. But soon your eyes adjust and you see that it is just a big mess. It's full of tools, gas cans, tractors, mowers, and old refrigerators - the things that keep this place running.  It smells of dust, old wood, 2,4-D weed spray, diesel fuel, and hydraulic fluid. You can smell sweet horse feed and the tang of old leather tack. It is where the smells of a ranch go to sleep. 

We keep the door on the left open from May through whenever to accomodate the barn swallows that nest inside. Small and iridescent blue-black with long tails, they look like tiny robed priests. They swoop into and out of the barn at breakneck speeds, in perfect, knifing parabolic turns. I stood outside the barn and timed the trips in and out - between seventeen and twenty one swallows every minute. That's roughly a thousand per hour. It's as if the barn is frantically breathing, inhaling and exhaling swallows. They rule the skies above the ranch with a strange combination of military precision and outright glee.

There are, at last count, nine nests inside. The nests are mud and grass cups, lined with softness. Their nests are the very definition of faith, clinging improbably to vertical surfaces, slowly overflowing with baby birds. For all the elegance the adult swallows have, the young are the opposite, with big clown mouths begging for food as they clamber over one another. 

 

Comments

[Jeff]

Gosh, I've been away awhile. So great that you keep pressing ahead with the beautiful photos and stories. I'm glad to be caught up on deuce and the barnswallows.

Big excitement here this weekend. Simon dropped the training wheels and pedaled off toward the rest of his life. He was awesome. It barely took an hour, no tears, no wipeouts. We pretty much just helped get his balance and he took of around a 200-300 yard jogging track. Did a full lap the first time.

I had been gearing up for a real according to Hoyle-type pep talk. All I was left with was shouting "go Simon, go!". You can see a couple clips on their website.

Hope you're well and the family's doing swell.

Jeff