Where I live wide-open, empty fields abound. You can look for what seems like miles and find nothing but grassy acres awaiting crops of corn, wheat, or hay. Many times, however, there will be a dilapidated old barn sitting just on the perimeter, a crumbling memory of a farm’s former glory days.

But the barn in the photo above is not one of those in need of repair. I drive by it often, and love taking its picture at different times of day as the sun rises and sets around it. It appears well-maintained, tended like a crop all its own, standing alone in its empty field, a sentinel keeping watch over the land and sky.

I prefer to discover barns like this, not rotted or falling down, ones their owners still find the time and resources, somehow, to keep alive. This one feels very much alive for me still, and I’m happy to chronicle it’s journey.