We lost a lot of beautiful barns this winter, and I find that I know where each of the beautiful barns are, as I have photographed them so many times. And I feel a pang when I go by each one, as they are picked apart by scavengers for the valuable wood and carted away. I thought I heard this window calling out to me and bear witness.

Living with change is the most valuable spiritual tool I know. Earth to earth. The barns know that better than any human, and like animals, they accept their fate, and the nature of life and death. I hear them whispering to me, it’s no big deal, we’re all going to the same place. Maybe so.