"The barn was very large. It was very old. It smelled of hay and it smelled of manure. It smelled of the perspiration of tired horses and the wonderful sweet breath of patient cows. It often had a sort of peaceful smell - as though nothing bad could happen ever again in the world. It smelled of grain and of harness dressing and of axle grease and of rubber boots and of new rope...but mostly it smelled of hay...."i'm reading E.B. White's Charlotte's Web aloud to the boys at lunchtime and we came to this paragraph today.
as we draft our own barn plans, begin planning what the feed troughs (mangers) and watering stations will look like, and how much electricity we'll want in it (a light? two, perhaps?), it's nice to read so many lovely barn descriptions. this is the second reference i've read recently to the sweet breath of cows. to the patience of cows.
our current barn housed cattle and horses years ago. it is too dangerous to house anything now (except some old lumber, an antique stove and washing buckets, a few horse shoes and many bats). the back of it is falling down, the rafters splitting from so much water (rain) damage from a leaky roof. the light switch is turned on by a stick (since wood doesn't conduct electricity) because of the shock it gives you when you do touch it. it's a good, solid old barn, but it's enjoying its retirement, so we'll leave it be. it'll store our barn equipment, and we'll house the animals in a safer place for now.
until it's built, i dream of what it'll look like...but mostly, i look forward to the feel of it, the smells and sounds of its interior walls.