My mother has a fascination with cemeteries and the stories the ancient gravestones tell. I, however, am captivated by abandoned barns.
The weathered facades speak to me of harsh winter storms and scorching summer heat. Inside, the posts and beams that have been notched, pegged and dovetailed together by calloused hands tell a story of when animals filled the stalls, hay reached high into the rafters and grain overflowed in bins.