|Old hay pulley|
It sat up the hill from us, stately behind the trees. The spring and fall sun rose behind it, silhouetting it spectacularly. She was a real beauty.
|Well aged tobacco left from the last harvest, years ago.|
For the last few decades she'd been used as a tobacco barn - the neighbors hung tobacco in there to cure over the winter.
|Old tobacco poles sticking out of the wreckage.|
We had a renegade llama at one point out here, but he was a wild thing and jumped the fences and eventually disappeared. We figured a coyote got him. One day, the neighbor went to check his tobacco and out of the blackness of this barn came running, right at him, our dark llama. It like to gave him a heart attack.
Bless his heart - he was laughing by the time he told us, but it must have taken a couple of years off his life. Turns out that rotten llama had been hiding out up there for months. Grazing in the hay field, drinking from the pond and sleeping in the barn. We caught him and gave him away but that's another story.
When folks out here stopped growing tobacco, the barn was ignored, except for target practice now and then.
Mostly she rested.
Now she's broken.
But she's as beautiful as ever.