A neighbor planned on tearing down an old barn that had been on his mother's property since the early 1900s. It was filled with old farm implements and cast-off furniture that no-one in the family wanted so he let me go through and haul out what I could before he took the dozer to it.
I found a new use for one of the plowing disks. My husband had an old hand pump stored away in the garage that he rescued from his grandfather's farm in Pennsylvania and we paired them up on a garden seat for the birds to enjoy.
The trellis had already been there for my autumn clematis so I hadn't given it much thought until later when a friend said it reminded her of a church window.
An accident of design, I suppose.
The crape myrtles were in full glory and made a nice backdrop.
It was sad to see a barn that had stood for a century reaching the end of it's life in order for someone to build a new house, but I console myself at reminders like this and realize this is why I rescue what in someone else's eyes is useless clutter.
We're just keepers of the flame.
