Old Barn Window

b&w windowA window that has surrendered to time takes on a bit of texture and elegance.

(click image for enhanced view)


48 thoughts on “Old Barn Window

  1. I love the ruggedness and history etched into old barns and building. Great work Mike you captured that very well here…..like always!
    I wonder though why the top window frame board has been replaced but the bottom completely neglected?


  2. The shadows, raggedness and dirt all make me think of ghost stories. …Or maybe it’s a cover for a kinky dungeon, designed to look abandoned on the outside but all spic and span and leathery goodness on the inside.

    Don’t mind me. It’s November, time for the 50k challenge. Brain is on overdrive! Love the photo Mike, I should come around more again.


  3. I always enjoy your architectural black and white photo’s. For me, it’s like time travel. In my mind I think about that day they were putting the finishing touches on a new building by installing the glass window. Must have been a lot of pride taken by building something like this with your own hands. I never have, that’s a bit sad to me.


    • I’m not much of a builder either, but I have completed a project or two that was beyond my comfort zone. Great pride in accomplishing that.
      I became a complete man 15 years ago when I bought my first chainsaw. What a rush to use it. Now I have two, just in case I ever lose my sense of belonging.


      • LOL, so real men own chainsaws and use them at will. Good to know, good to know…too funny. I once took out a dead Buckthorn in our lake yard with a reciprocating saw. I sliced and diced one limb at a time until it was a pencil. Then chop chop at the trunk. The hardest part was the dang roots, they went to China. Oh Lord, plenty dirty that day. My husband was shocked when he got home and laughed. But yah, I can relate on a much smaller scale. I need a chainsaw!


      • Sometimes, if you can’t beat em’, join em’ I grew up with 3 brothers and a truck driving dad. I didn’t always have the opportunity to be a girly girl. I wouldn’t say Tomboy, I think ‘impatient’ maybe is the word. If it’s a project that won’t kill me (LOL) I’ll just go ahead and try it rather than wait for someone to get around to it. Sometimes there’s success, sometimes I get in over my head. One never knows until you try right?


      • I read your about page….it must have just got by me. Hello Kelly.
        My mother’s people were Ukrainian and grew up in Canada. My father’s side is from Lithuania.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Oh, what a nice combo πŸ˜€ Yummy traditional food during the holidays. My dad was Ukrainian/Romanian. Hence, I’ve never met a perogie I didn’t like, LOL Hey! Do you like Borsch? A place in Edmonton called ‘The Continental Treat’ has the best. Also Pickle soup. Do you have any European restaurants you can get a perogie fix in town?

        Liked by 1 person

      • I never developed a taste for Borsch and have had very limited exposure to Russian food. Judy says we have eaten perogies but hell if I remember it. We live in a college town of 80,000 with only a tiny amount of ethnic food available. When we lived in Denver for 28 years there was much more available and when I grew up in NY I was not exposed to all the great variety of food.
        Pickle soup? Yikes.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Edmonton is very ethnically diversified. I think you can get any kind of food you like. Jim doesn’t like Ukrainian food either, so I have to rely on friends and relatives over the holidays to treat me. This part of Alberta has a lot of descendants of Ukrainian immigrants though too.

        Pickle soup sounds wacky but it’s potato based and really scrumptious, honest πŸ˜€


      • I have to eat more Ukrainian food before we conclude I don’t like it. I imagine I might like quite a bit of it, and I would try almost anything. If pickle soup is potato based, I’m in. Eating is one of my favorite things.
        Toronto I know has a great mix of ethnic foods and is as much a melting pot as NYC. I moved away from NY when I was 19 and never really got to experience it on my own, as an adult.
        I had Great grandparents who met their end in the Ukraine at the hands of Nazis. They were elderly by then.


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