I wondered why I felt so drawn to this scene. As the week went by I began watching for it a mile or so in advance. I never missed it.
I felt a kindred spirit with someones barn whom I do not even know, and had no clue why it seemed to be calling me by name. Maybe it was the golden hay field that lead to its neatly and totally filled corridors. That seemed orderly to me and I like that. Or was it the perfectly positioned and untattered flag that marked the very center of its front. It looks unmovable and somehow safe from danger in such a dangerous world.
I wasn't sure why this beautiful scene wrapped around me so, but I was certain that I needed to find a day in my crazy schedule to check it out through my lens because the "everything's going to be alright" feeling sure felt good!
After several typical shots, I decided to get closer and go lower to the ground as something was calling me there. Halfway through the fence and what I knew was now private property I laid tummy and chin to the cold ground as I looked toward the scene to get a glance of what would be my photograph. In my prostrate state, I lowered my camera to the ground and looked toward the darkening heavens and realized that even though the storms may brew, and the future may be uncertain, there's one thing that I know. He is constant. He will never change. He is God. In that I can rest.
It took a moment on the cold ground gazing at this beautiful scene to remind me to slow down and stop shoving my uncertainties to the back of my mind in hopes of their disappearing in the heat of my busy moments. When I do that, they do disappear, but only for a moment as they return void of any solution.
This moment was so much bigger than my uncertainties. In this moment I noticed how quiet it became, how quickly the winter drab and stormy day bursted with colorful contrast, and how I felt I could lie there forever in the quiet stillness of this moment as much peace filled my soul.
What street is the Barn on in the Boro?
ReplyDeleteJPW