Old Barns of Tennessee

Ten weeks ago we left California and headed to our new home in Tennessee to start a new chapter in our lives. This is my first post since we moved.

To be honest-it was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. We loaded up our belongings, said good-bye to family and friends, and started the three-day drive from the California coastline to the rolling hills of Middle Tennessee.

John had a job waiting for him the day after we arrived and we stayed with friends while waiting for our new home to close before unpacking.

I was also under a book deadline.

“Have you been able to explore your new area?” I was asked more than once.

“Not yet,” I replied. “I need to finish this project first.”

Finally, the day came when I pushed the “Send” button. It was a huge relief. I had met my deadline and was ready to dust off my camera and explore.

My new friend, Katrina, offered to drive with me so I could take pictures while we roamed the back roads. We stopped at more barns than I can count. Some had rooflines that drooped and windows that were missing. Some were still being used to park tractors in.

All of them had a history of families who settled there and the people who worked the land.

What are you waiting for…take the afternoon and go on an adventure. You don’t always need a passport to discover something new, sometimes you just need to take a drive down a back road.

Wander often. Wonder always.

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3 Comments

  1. Fantastic memories of your discovery. Barns have long been my church as a girl high in the bair loft overlooking the rolling hills of the Ozarks in Eastern Oklahoma. I would hide away and write short stories about riding horses in some adventure. The nail holes through the tin roof would allow the sun to shine down into the hazy. I was most certain heaven wiould feel this way. A reverent place filled with doves calling in the rafters.

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