The Hay Whisperers

Another October
another warm day
but not just another barn.

Many many years ago
I lived in the abandoned general store in Muddy Creek Forks.
Across from my easel in the attic
were two very old children’s dress mannequins.
I painted them in their postured attitude
and titled it, “Even the dressforms aren’t speaking”.

It reminds me of these two old souls.
Having come to rest and ruminate
on opposite sides of the barn
their afternoon of gentle roaming deceptively still.

When I searched back through the hundreds of reference photos taken of this barn
those two creatures were never in the same place twice.

The working elements inside this wooden structure were meticulously ordered.
Every single tool and tackle stored with precision.
The hay bales were aligned with the rafters
and even the sunlight played by the caretaker’s rules.

I wanted to convey that context
but when framed within the solid post and beam timbers
it made for a rigid composition.

Until I looked closer
and saw what elegant havoc
the weather was playing on the rafters
the finely honed scarrings of the broad-axed posts
the randomness of those snaggle-toothed carvings
that were left at the feeding troughs
and, in the distance,
the tender gesture
of the leaning water buckets.

Oh the beauty
of a patina of chaos.