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A barn of stoic shiplap plank, bloomed poppy-red by artist brush, sat within a mirth of tall grasses, as if together they told stories of warm comedy.

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By the recumbent light of eventide, in the rosy glow of the setting sun, the barn was worthy of any impressionist master, worthy of immortalising in oils. For it graced the hill in that hug of meadow grasses and blooms in silent sentry duty, providing shelter and protection come what may.

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From its barn-raising-party birth to its reincarnation as a sweet home for our expanding family, the barn was a blessing that spanned generations.

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The old hay barn has stables at the front with those old half-doors to allow the horses to see the view of the yard. Once the old iron bolts are opened there is a ladder rising to a loft, the place we store the hay and straw. It is a place of games, of childhood memories as sweet as the aroma of those sun-soaked grasses. It is a place on this farm for the sweetness of solitude and the freedom of playful thoughts, a place to hear the rain on the old tin roof as if it were music from the heavens.

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The barn blossomed on the hill amid the grass and the meadow flowers, as if one day it sprung up from some precious seed. I guess what I'm saying is, it belonged there, and if it were absent the picture of that landscape would be missing something very special. So though the timbers were aged and the light that streamed in from the holey roof illuminated the dust like ethereal confetti - it was truly a great place, I loved it.

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Gaily upon our green hill, where the roaming of wild horses was common place, stood a barn of brownest hue, the kind that told of home and hearth.

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The barn dwelled in our pasture for many a season as if the sweetest of songs had raised it there, as if it were fashioned by our collective dreams.

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The barn stands as a monument to the building techniques of yesteryear. The foundations and walls are better than our new home, even with the weathering of countless winters. Sure, we need to take out a few planks, replace them with new, but a good lick of new paint and it will see another decade yet.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 2, 2015.